BV  3500  . L36  1909 
Lambert,  John  Christopher, 
1848  - 1917 

Missionary  heroes  in  Africa 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/missionaryheroes00lamb_0 


Missionary  Heroes  in  Africa 


Arnot  defending  his  Food  from  Wild  Beasts 

Food  was  scarce,  so  he  went  out  shooting  accompanied  by  a native.  He  succeeded  in 
bringing  down  three  antelopes,  and  then  he  sent  the  native  to  get  help  to  carry  the  game  to 
camp.  Meanwhile  he  had  to  mount  guard.  With  no  fire  and  no  cartridges  left,  he  had  to 
keep  cheetahs  and  hyenas  at  bay  by  shouting  and  stamping  his  feet  right  through  the  night. 
Fortunately  no  lions  happened  to  come  by. 


Missionary  Heroes 
in  Africa 

TRUE  STORIES  OF  THE  INTREPID  BRAVERY 
AND  STIRRING  ADVENTURES  OF  MISSIONARIES 
WITH  UNCIVILIZED  MAN,  WILD  BEASTS  AND 
THE  FORCES  OF  NATURE 


JOHN  C. 


BY 


LAMBERT,  M.A.,  D.D. 


AUTHOR  OF 

“THE  OMNIPOTENT  CROSS,”  “THREE  FISHING 
&*C.  &*C. 


WITH  TWELVE  ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOATS ” 


PHILADELPHIA 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

LONDON:  SEELEY  6s  CO.  Limited 

1909 


PREFATORY  NOTE 


HE  author  desires  with  much  gratitude  to 


acknowledge  his  debt  to  the  following 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  who  have  most  kindly 
assisted  him  in  gathering  the  materials  for  this 
book  by  giving  their  consent  to  his  use  of  their 
writings,  by  lending  him  books  and  photo- 
graphs, or  in  other  ways  : 

The  Rev.  George  Robson,  d.d.,  Editor  of 
the  “ Missionary  Record  of  the  United  Free 
Church  of  Scotland”;  Mr.  Fred  S.  Arnot, 
founder  of  the  Garenganze  Mission  ; Miss 
M.G.  Cowan,  Hon.  Librarian  of  the  Missionary 
Library  at  Lady  Stairs  House,  Edinburgh  ; 
Mr.  John  Cochrane,  of  the  Publications  Office 
of  the  United  Free  Church  ; Mrs.  D.  R.  Mac- 
Kenzie,  of  the  Livingstonia  Mission,  Lake 
Nyasa. 

He  would  also  express  his  obligations  to  the 
following  firms  of  publishers,  who  have  most 


7 


Prefatory  Note 

courteously  allowed  him  to  make  use  of  the 
books  mentioned  in  their  proper  places  at 
the  end  of  each  chapter,  and  in  some  cases 
of  illustrations  of  which  they  hold  the  copy- 
right 

Messrs.  Oliphant,  Anderson,  & Ferrier ; 
Messrs.  Hodder  & Stoughton  ; Mr.  T.  Fisher 
Unwin  ; Messrs.  Seeley  & Co.,  Ltd. 


INTRODUCTION 


IN  a “ foreword’*  which  he  contributes  to 
Dr.  Jacob  Chamberlain’s  attractive  mis- 
sionary book,  In  the  Tiger  Jungle , Dr.  Francis 
E.  Clark  expresses  the  opinion  that  one  need 
not  patronize  sensational  and  unhealthy  fiction 
to  find  stirring  adventure  and  thrilling  narrative, 
and  then  goes  on  to  say  : — 

“ There  is  one  source  which  furnishes  stories 
of  intense  and  dramatic  interest,  abounding  in 
novel  situations  and  spiced  with  abundant 
adventure  ; and  this  source  is  at  the  same  time 
the  purest  and  most  invigorating  fountain  at 
which  our  youth  can  drink.  To  change  the 
figure,  this  is  a mine  hitherto  largely  unworked  ; 
it  contains  rich  nuggets  of  ore,  which  will  well 
repay  the  prospector  in  this  new  field.” 

The  field  to  which  Dr.  Clark  refers  is  the 
history  of  modern  Christian  missions.  His 
meaning  is  that  the  adventurous  and  stirring 


9 


Introduction 

side  of  missionary  experience  needs  to  be 
brought  out,  and  emphasis  laid  upon  the  fact 
that  the  romantic  days  of  missions  are  by  no 
means  past. 

There  are  stories  which  are  now  among  the 
classics  of  missionary  romance.  Such  are  the 
expedition  of  Hans  Egede  to  Greenland,  the 
lonely  journeys  of  David  Brainerd  among  the 
Indian  tribes  of  the  North  American  forests, 
the  voyage  of  John  Williams  from  one  coral 
island  of  the  Pacific  to  another  in  the  little  ship 
which  his  own  hands  had  built,  the  exploration 
of  the  Dark  Continent  by  David  Livingstone 
in  the  hope  of  emancipating  the  black  man’s 
soul. 

But  among  missionary  lives  which  are  more 
recent  or  less  known,  there  are  many  not  less 
noble  or  less  thrilling  than  those  just  referred 
to ; and  the  chapters  which  follow  are  an 
attempt  to  make  this  plain. 

There  is,  of  course,  a deeper  side  to  Christian 
missions — a side  that  is  essential  and  invariable 
— while  the  elements  of  adventure  and  romance 
are  accidental  and  occasional.  If  in  these 
pages  the  spiritual  aspects  of  foreign  mission 


IO 


Introduction 

work  are  but  slightly  touched  upon,  it  is  not 
because  they  are  either  forgotten  or  ignored, 
but  simply  because  it  was  not  part  of  the 
writer’s  present  plan  to  deal  with  them.  It  is 
hoped,  nevertheless,  that  some  of  those  into 
whose  hands  this  book  may  come  will  be 
induced  by  what  they  read  to  make  fuller 
acquaintance  with  the  lives  and  aims  of  our 
missionary  heroes,  and  so  will  catch  something 
of  that  spirit  which  led  them  to  face  innumer- 
able dangers,  toils,  and  trials  among  heathen 
and  often  savage  peoples,  whether  in  the  frozen 
North  or  the  burning  South,  whether  in  the 
hidden  depths  of  some  vast  continent  or  among 
the  scattered  * 4 islands  of  the  ocean  seas.” 

In  the  recently  published  Memoirs  of 
Archbishop  Temple  we  find  the  future  Primate 
of  the  Church  of  England,  when  a youth  of 
twenty,  writing  to  tell  his  mother  how  his 
imagination  had  been  stirred  by  the  sight  of 
Bishop  Selwyn  of  New  Zealand  starting  for  the 
Pacific  with  a band  of  young  men  who  had 
devoted  themselves  to  the  propagation  of  the 
Gospel  among  a benighted  and  barbarous 
people.  “ It  is  not  mere  momentary  enthu- 


ii 


Introduction 

siasm  with  me,”  he  writes;  “ my  heart  beats 
whenever  I think  of  it.  I think  it  one  of  the 
noblest  things  England  has  done  for  a long 
time  ; almost  the  only  thing  really  worthy  of 
herself.” 

It  is  the  author’s  earnest  desire  that  the 
narratives  which  follow  may  help  to  kindle  in 
some  minds  an  enthusiasm  for  missions  like 
that  which  characterized  Frederick  Temple  to 
the  very  end  of  his  long  and  strenuous  life  ; or, 
better  still,  that  they  may  even  suggest  to  some 
who  are  looking  forward  to  the  future  with  a 
high  ambition,  and  wondering  how  to  make 
the  most  of  life,  whether  there  is  any  career 
which  offers  so  many  opportunities  of  romantic 
experience  and  heroic  achievement  as  that  of  a 
Christian  missionary. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

“THE  HERO  OF  UGANDA” 

The  kingdom  of  Mtesa — The  young  engineer — Victoria  Nyanza — 
The  Daisy — A baraza  at  Mtesa’s  court — The  land  of  blood — 
“ Makay  lubare” — A Brobdingnagian  coffin — King  Mwanga 
and  the  martyrs — Murder  of  Bishop  Hannington — A visit  from 
Stanley — Mackay’s  death — An  Easter  Sunday  in  the  Cathedral 
of  Uganda  . . . ... 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  LION-HEARTED  BISHOP 

“ Mad  Jim  ” — An  ideal  pioneer— A novel  way  of  landing  in  Africa — 
“Teek,  teek,  teek’’ — Encounter  with  lions — Turned  back  from 
the  goal — Bishop  of  East  Equatorial  Africa — The  new  route  to 
Uganda — Through  Masailand — The  El  Moran — Greasy  bed- 
fellows— The  forbidden  land — Martyrdom 


CHAPTER  III 

PIONEERS  IN  NYASALAND 

Up  the  Zambesi  and  the  Shire — Lake  Nyasa — Dr.  Livingstone  and 
Livingstonia — The  first  pioneers — Gravestones  and  milestones 
— The  wild  Angoni — A raid  and  a rescue — A great  indaba — 
Arab  slavers — The  Arab  war — African  Lakes  Corporation — 
Transformation  of  Central  Africa — A dream-city 


PA.GK 


19 


45 


13 


Contents 


CHAPTER  IV 

VORTREKKERS  IN  BAROTSELAND 

PAGE 

The  three  horsemen  at  the  Great  Kei  River — Fran?ois  Coillard — 
Trekking  northwards  — In  the  clutches  of  Lobengula  — In 
Khama’s  country — The  Makari-kari  Desert — The  Upper  Zam- 
besi— King  Lewanika  of  Barotseland — A canoe  voyage — 
Adventure  with  the  Balubale — The  coming  of  the  Iron  Horse  . 97 


CHAPTER  V 

A PIONEER  IN  GARENGANZE 

King  Msidi’s  letter — Garenganze — Fred  S.  Arnot — His  earlier 
travels — The  expedition  from  Benguela — An  African  camp — 

The  beeswax  hunters — Watershed  of  the  continent — Reception 
by  Msidi — A night  with  cheetahs  and  hyenas — Horrors  of  the 
slave  traffic — The  saviours  of  Africa  . . . 115 


CHAPTER  VI 

A TRAMP  THROUGH  THE  GREAT  PYGMY  FOREST 

Pygmyland — Mr.  A.  B.  Lloyd — From  Uganda  to  the  Congo  mouth 
— The  Great  Forest — Vegetable  and  animal  life — Gorillas — The 
elephant  and  the  zareba — “ Don’t  shoot ; it’s  a man  ! ” — The 
friendly  Pygmies — Appearance  and  habits — Pygmy  worship — 

The  Ituri  River — u Riding  on  a snake  ” — Down  the  Congo — 
Pygmyland  and  the  Kingdom  of  Christ  . . • • I35 


14 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


ARNOT  DEFENDING  HIS  FOOD  FROM  WILD  BEASTS 
HANNINGTON’S  FIRST  LANDING  IN  AFRICA  . 

THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  MUTINOUS  BOATMAN 
A VISIT  FROM  A HIPPOPOTAMUS 
AN  ELEPHANT  AND  RHINOCEROS  FIGHT  . 

A MASAI  MOCK  DUEL 

BEFORE  HANNINGTON’s  MURDER 

MODE  OF  CARRYING  WHITES  IN  LIVINGSTONIA 

THE  OUTSIDE  OF  A KRAAL 

THE  INSIDE  OF  A KRAAL 

IN  THE  TRACK  OF  THE  SLAVE-HUNTERS  . 

A VISIT  FROM  THE  PYGMIES 


Frontispiece 

Seepage 

» 51 

»>  53 

„ 54 

„ 62 

„ 64 


>5 

jj 

v 


74 

88 

88 


„ 120 

„ 146 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE 

The  contents  of  this  volume  have  been  taken  from  Dr.  Lambert's 
larger  book,  entitled  “ The  Romance  of  Missionary  Heroism 
published  at  five  shillings. 


“THE  HERO  OF  UGANDA” 


B 


Missionary  Heroes  in  Africa 

CHAPTER  I 

“THE  HERO  OF  UGANDA” 

The  kingdom  of  Mtesa — The  young  engineer — Victoria  Nyanza — The 
Daisy — A baraza  at  Mtesa’s  court — The  land  of  blood — “ Makay 
lubare  ” — A Brobdingnagian  coffin — King  Mwanga  and  the 
martyrs — Murder  of  Bishop  Hannington — A visit  from  Stanley — 
Mackay’s  death — An  Easter  Sunday  in  the  Cathedral  of  Uganda. 

IN  days  when  the  British  flag  flies  proudly 
over  the  Commissioners  residence  in  what 
is  now  known  as  the  Uganda  Protectorate  in 
the  equatorial  regions  of  East  Central  Africa, 
and  railway  trains  pass  regularly  to  and  fro 
through  the  wild  regions  that  lie  between  the 
town  of  Mombasa  on  the  coast  and  Kavirondo 
Bay  on  the  eastern  shores  of  the  Victoria 
Nyanza,  the  grandest  of  all  African  lakes,  most 
of  the  mystery  and  romance  which  once  hung 
about  the  kingdom  of  Uganda  may  be  said  to 


9 


H.  M.  Stanley 

have  disappeared.  Less  than  fifty  years  ago 
the  case  was  very  different.  One  or  two  bold 
travellers,  pushing  on  towards  the  sources  of 
the  Nile,  had  heard  from  Arab  traders,  not  less 
bold,  of  the  existence  of  an  ancient,  powerful, 
and  half-civilized  kingdom  lying  directly  under 
the  equator,  and  stretching  along  the  coasts  of 
a great  inland  sea.  But  these  at  the  best  were 
only  hearsay  tales,  and  if  the  thrilling  romance 
of  King  Solomon  s Mines , dear  to  the  hearts  of 
boys,  had  been  in  print  half  a century  ago, 
the  wonderful  regions  discovered  by  Allan 
Quatermain  and  his  companions  would  have 
had  as  much  reality  to  English  readers  as  the 
dominions  of  King  Mtesa. 

But  in  1862  Captain  Speke  reached  Uganda, 
the  first  of  all  white  men  to  enter  the  country  ; 
and  in  1875  there  came  an  explorer  greater 
still — Henry  M.  Stanley.  Stanley  was  much 
impressed  by  what  he  saw  of  Mtesa  and  his 
kingdom,  and  was  especially  struck  writh  the 
great  possibilities  for  the  future  of  Christian  mis- 
sions in  Africa  that  seemed  to  be  opened  up  by 
the  existence  in  the  very  heart  of  the  continent 
of  such  a country  as  Uganda,  ruled  by  a monarch 


20 


The  Young  Engineer 

so  enlightened.  On  his  return  to  England  he 
wrote  a historic  letter  to  a great  London  news- 
paper, describing  his  visit  to  Uganda,  and 
challenging  the  Christian  Churches  of  Britain 
to  send  missionaries  to  that  land.  It  was  this 
letter  that  led  the  Church  Missionary  Society, 
shortly  afterwards,  to  undertake  that  work  in 
Uganda  with  which  the  name  of  Alexander 
Mackay  will  always  be  associated. 

Mackay  was  a young  Scotchman,  the  son  of 
a Presbyterian  minister  in  Aberdeenshire,  who 
at  an  early  age  had  made  up  his  mind  to  devote 
himself  to  the  service  of  Christ  in  the  foreign 
field,  and  had  conceived  the  original  idea  of 
becoming  what  he  called  an  1 4 engineer  mis- 
sionary.” From  the  first  he  saw,  as  most 
missionary  societies  have  now  come  to  see,  that 
Christianity  and  modern  civilization  should  go 
hand  in  hand,  and  that  mechanical  work  is  as 
legitimate  an  aid  to  missions  as  medical  science. 
He  had  a natural  bent  towards  engineering,  and 
after  studying  it  theoretically  for  three  years  at 
Edinburgh  University,  went  to  Germany  and 
spent  some  time  there  as  a draughtsman  and 
constructor.  So  marked  were  his  constructive 


“ The  Modern  Livingstone  ” 

talents  that  one  of  his  employers  offered  him  a 
partnership  in  a large  engineering  concern  ; but 
what  would  have  seemed  a tempting  oppor- 
tunity to  most  young  men  was  no  temptation 
to  him.  Already  his  heart  was  in  the  mission 
field.  When  he  was  twenty-four  years  of  age, 
and  hard  at  work  in  Berlin,  he  wrote  in  his 
diary  on  the  first  anniversary  of  Dr.  Living- 
stone’s death  : “This  day  last  year  Livingstone 
died — a Scotchman  and  a Christian,  loving 
God  and  his  neighbour  in  the  heart  of  Africa. 
‘Go  thou  and  do  likewise.’”  It  was  in  the 
year  following  that  Stanley  returned  from 
Uganda  and  wrote  the  celebrated  letter  already 
referred  to  ; and  among  the  first  to  respond 
personally  to  the  explorer’s  challenge  was  the 
young  Scotch  engineer  who  had  drunk  so 
deeply  of  Livingstone’s  spirit,  and  whom 
Stanley  himself  described  fourteen  years  later, 
when  he  had  seen  with  his  own  eyes  the  kind 
of  work  that  Mackay  had  done  in  the  heart  of 
Africa,  as  “the  modern  Livingstone.” 

According  to  Stanley  it  was  the  practical 
Christian  teacher  who  was  wanted  in  the  Dark 
Continent — the  man  who,  sailor-like,  could  turn 


22 


Victoria  Nyanza 

his  hand  to  anything.  “ Such  a one,  ” he  wrote, 
“if  he  can  be  found,  would  become  the  saviour 
of  Africa.”  Mackay’s  practical  teaching  began 
long  before  he  set  foot  in  Uganda,  for  as  soon 
as  he  reached  the  East  African  coast  he  set  to 
work  to  cut  a good  road  to  Mpwapwa,  230 
miles  inland.  It  was  a huge  task  for  one 
white  man  to  undertake  in  the  teeth  of  count- 
less natural  difficulties,  and  in  spite  of  frequent 
sickness  and  dangers  from  wild  beasts  and 
savage  men.  But  in  the  words  of  the  old 
Scotch  proverb,  the  young  engineer  “set  a 
stout  heart  to  a stey  brae  ” — fording  swamps 
and  climbing  hills,  bridging  rivers  and  cleaving 
his  way  through  forests.  It  was  not  till  two 
years  after  he  had  landed  in  Africa  that  he 
arrived  at  Kagei  on  the  south  of  the  Victoria 
Nyanza,  and  caught  his  first  glimpse  of  the 
great  lake  in  the  neighbourhood  of  which  the 
remainder  of  his  life  was  to  be  spent.  Two  of 
the  missionaries  for  Uganda,  Lieutenant  Smith 
and  Mr.  O’Neill,  had  been  murdered  shortly 
before  by  a neighbouring  king ; others  had 
succumbed  to  the  climate  one  by  one  ; and 
meantime  he  was  left  alone  to  hold  aloft  in 


23 


The  “Daisy” 

this  vast  region  the  flag  of  Christianity  and 
civilization. 

His  first  business  was  to  get  across  the  lake, 
for  Kagei  is  at  the  south  end,  while  Uganda 
lies  along  the  north-western  shores.  In  size  the 
Victoria  Nyanza  is  about  equal  to  Ireland,  and 
the  only  way  of  crossing  this  inland  sea  was  by 
means  of  a sailing-boat  called  the  Daisy , which 
had  been  brought  up  from  the  coast  in  sections 
by  Lieutenant  Smith,  but  in  which  not  a single 
sound  plank  now  remained,  thanks  to  the 
burning  rays  of  the  sun,  the  teeth  of  hippo- 
potami, and  the  ravages  of  armies  of  white 
ants.  Mackay  had  to  begin  without  delay  those 
mechanical  labours  by  which  he  was  to  produce 
so  deep  an  impression  on  the  native  mind,  and 
which  by  and  by  made  his  name  famous  all 
round  the  shores  of  the  Victoria  Nyanza.  Day 
by  day  he  toiled  single-handed  on  the  beach 
with  crowds  of  natives  all  around,  willing  to 
help  so  far  as  they  could,  but  sometimes  doing 
more  to  hinder,  watching  and  wondering  until, 
as  they  saw  his  turning-lathe  at  work,  or  beau- 
tiful candles  growing  under  his  fingers  out  of 
the  fat  of  an  ox,  or  a complete  steam-engine 


24 


The  “ Daisy” 

out  of  a heterogeneous  collection  of  bars  and 
rods  and  bolts  and  screws,  they  began  to 
whisper  to  one  another  that  the  white  man  came 
from  heaven. 

But  before  his  boat-building  was  completed, 
Mackay  impressed  the  natives  in  another  way 
by  paying  a visit  to  King  Lkonge,  of  the  island 
of  Ukerewe,  by  whose  warriors  the  two  mis- 
sionaries had  been  murdered  a short  time 
before.  The  friendly  people  of  Kagei  entreated 
him  not  to  go  to  Ukerewe,  assuring  him  that 
by  doing  so  he  would  only  be  putting  his  head 
into  the  lion’s  jaws.  But  he  went,  alone  and 
unarmed,  and  got  Lkonge  to  promise  that  he 
would  allow  the  missionaries  to  come  and  teach 
his  subjects ; and  then  after  a nine  days’ 
absence  returned  to  Kagei,  where  he  was 
received  almost  as  one  who  had  come  back 
from  the  dead. 

At  length  the  Daisy  was  ready,  and  Mackay 
had  now  to  undertake  the  duty  of  navigating 
her  across  the  unknown  waters.  Even  to  an 
experienced  sailor  like  the  murdered  Lieu- 
tenant Smith  the  task  vvould  not  have  been  an 
easy  one,  for  like  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  the  Vic- 


The  “ Daisy” 

toria  Nyanza  is  a lake  of  storms,  while  count- 
less rocks  and  islets  stud  the  broad  expanse  on 
every  hand.  And  Mackay  was  not  only  no 
sailor,  he  had  not  the  slightest  acquaintance 
with  the  art  of  handling  a sailing  boat.  Still 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  launch  out 
into  the  deep  with  a native  crew  which  knew 
even  less  about  boats  than  he  did  himself.  It 
was  a terrible  voyage.  Soon  after  leaving 
Kagei  a great  storm  came  down  and  raged 
upon  the  lake  for  two  days,  during  which  the 
Daisy  was  driven  helplessly  before  the  fury  of 
wind  and  waves,  until  she  was  hurled  at  last  a 
mere  wreck  upon  the  western  coast.  The  boat- 
builder’s  task  had  to  be  resumed  once  more  ; 
and  the  Daisy  was  repaired,  as  Mackay  him- 
self puts  it,  “ much  as  one  would  make  a pair 
of  shoes  out  of  a pair  of  long  boots.  Cutting 
eight  feet  out  of  the  middle'  of  her,  we  brought 
stem  and  stern  together,  patching  up  all  broken 
parts  in  these  with  the  wood  of  the  middle 
portion  ; and  after  eight  weeks’  hard  labour, 
we  launched  her  once  more  on  the  Victoria 
Nyanza.” 

It  was  not  till  November,  1878,  two  and  a 


26 


A “Baraza”  at  Mtesa’s  Court 

half  years  after  leaving  England,  that  Ntebe, 
the  port  of  Uganda,  was  sighted  at  last ; and 
five  days  afterwards  Mackay  entered  Rubaga, 
the  capital  of  the  land  which  had  so  long  been 
the  goal  of  all  his  hopes  and  efforts.  On  the 
earliest  day  on  which  there  was  a baraza  or 
levee  at  Mtesas  court,  he  received  a summons 
to  attend.  It  was  a striking  succession  of 
scenes  that  met  his  quietly  observant  eye  as  he 
passed  along  the  magnificently  wide  road  that 
led  to  the  royal  palace  of  this  Central  African 
city.  In  his  Two  Kings  of  Uganda  Mr.  Ashe, 
Mackay ’s  colleague  at  a later  period,  gives  a 
graphic  account  of  one  of  Mtesas  levees,  when, 
amidst  the  rolling  tattoos  of  deep-toned  drums 
and  the  blare  of  trumpets,  lords  and  chieftains 
from  far  and  near,  villainous  but  smiling  Arabs, 
runaway  Egyptian  soldiers  from  the  Soudan, 
adventurers  from  the  East  Coast  and  Mada- 
gascar, mountebanks,  minstrels,  dancers,  and 
dwarfs  all  gathered  into  the  courtyard  of  the 
Kabaka,  which  was  the  native  title  of  the  king. 

Mackay ’s  presentation  passed  off  very  well, 
and  it  was  not  long  till  his  great  skill  in  all 
kinds  of  arts  and  crafts,  and  especially  in  iron- 


27 


Adverse  Influences 

work,  made  him  an  object  of  wonder  to  the 
whole  country  and  a special  favourite  with  the 
king.  But  he  never  allowed  himself  to  forget 
that,  important  as  practical  work  was,  there 
was  something  which  was  infinitely  higher,  and 
that  all  the  influence  which  he  gained  by  his 
mechanical  ingenuity  must  be  turned  to  the 
service  of  the  Gospel  he  had  come  to  Uganda 
to  proclaim.  So  while  during  the  rest  of  the 
week  he  practised  the  arts  of  civilization  and 
imparted  them  to  others,  when  Sunday  came 
he  regularly  presented  himself  at  the  court,  and 
read  and  expounded  the  New  Testament  to  a 
listening  crowd  in  the  presence  of  the  king. 
At  first  Mtesa  appeared  to  be  in  sympathy  with 
his  teaching,  and  to  the  ardent  young  mission- 
ary it  almost  seemed  as  if  the  whole  nation  of 
Uganda  might  be  born  in  a day.  It  was  not 
long,  however,  till  adverse  influences  began  to 
work.  The  Arab  traders  bitterly  disliked 
Mackay,  for  they  were  well  aware  that  all  his 
influence  went  to  undermine  their  very  lucrative 
slave  trade.  There  were  some  Roman  Catholic 
priests,  too,  who  had  followed  him  to  Uganda 
after  he  had  opened  up  the  way,  and  these  men 


28 


The  Land  of  Blood 

set  themselves  to  prejudice  both  king  and 
people  against  him  as  far  as  they  could.  But 
worst  of  all,  Mtesa  turned  out  to  be  a hearer  of 
the  type  of  that  Felix  to  whom  St.  Paul 
preached.  Up  to  a certain  point  he  listened  to 
Mackay  willingly  enough,  but  he  did  not  like 
the  missionary  to  get  into  close  grips  with  his 
conscience.  There  was  much  that  was  good 
and  amiable  about  Mtesa,  and  to  the  end  he 
protected  Mackay  from  all  his  enemies.  But 
his  whole  previous  life  had  been  a training  in 
cruelty,  brutality,  and  lust ; and  though  his 
mind  was  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  Christian 
Gospel,  its  moral  demands  were  too  much  for 
his  taste,  and  he  remained  a heathen  in  heart. 

And  so  there  came  a time  when  Mackay  dis- 
covered to  his  horror  that  while  for  more  than 
two  years  the  king  had  been  listening  to  him 
with  apparent  interest,  he  had  been  permitting 
almost  unimaginable  cruelties  to  be  practised 
just  as  before.  In  particular,  every  now  and 
then  he  gave  orders  for  a kiwendo,  i.e.  a great 
massacre  of  human  victims,  in  one  of  which  as 
many  as  2,000  persons  were  put  to  death  in 
a single  day.  In  anticipation  of  these  great 


29 


The  Land  of  Blood 

sacrifices,  gangs  of  executioners  prowled  about 
the  land  by  night,  pouncing  upon  innocent  and 
helpless  people  and  marching  them  off  to  the 
capital  ; and  by  and  by  Mackay  came  to  know 
that  the  deep  roll  of  drums  which  sometimes 
wakened  him  in  the  dead  of  night  was  nothing 
else  than  the  signal  that  a fresh  batch  of  victims 
had  been  brought  in.  When  the  day  of  the 
kiwendo  arrived,  these  wretched  creatures  were 
put  to  death  by  burning.  But  before  being 
cast  alive  into  the  flames  many  had  their  eyes 
put  out,  their  noses  and  ears  cut  off,  or  the 
sinews  of  their  arms  and  thighs  torn  out  and 
roasted  before  their  faces. 

Against  these  horrible  deeds  Mackay  pro- 
tested with  all  his  strength,  but  only  offended 
the  king,  who  now  declined  to  see  him  at  the 
court,  and  no  longer,  as  at  first,  supplied  him 
with  food,  so  that  he  and  the  two  other  mis- 
sionaries by  whom  he  had  been  joined  were 
sometimes  reduced  to  actual  starvation.  From 
time  to  time,  however,  the  royal  favour  was 
regained  in  some  measure  by  a fresh  demonstra- 
tion of  the  white  man’s  mechanical  power. 
Once  in  a time  of  great  drought,  when  water 


30 


“ Makay  Lubare  ” 

was  not  to  be  had  in  the  capital,  Mackay  sank 
a deep  well — a thing  which  had  never  before 
been  seen  in  Uganda,  and  fitted  it  with  a pump 
— a thing  more  wonderful  still.  And  when  the 
people  saw  the  copious  stream  of  water  ascend- 
ing twenty  feet  high,  and  flowing  on  as  long  as 
any  one  worked  the  pump  handle,  their  as- 
tonishment knew  no  bounds,  and  they  cried, 
Makay  lubare  (“  Mackay  is  the  great  spirit  ”) 
again  and  again.  But  their  benefactor  did  not 
trade  on  their  ignorance.  He  told  them  that 
the  pump  was  only  a kind  of  elephant’s  trunk 
made  of  copper,  or  that  it  was  like  the  tubes 
they  used  for  sucking  beer  out  of  their  beer 
jars,  only  much  bigger  and  with  a tongue  of 
iron  to  suck  up  the  water.  “ I am  no  great 
spirit,”  he  assured  them.  “There  is  only  one 
Great  Spirit,  that  is  God  ; and  I am  only  a man 
like  yourselves.” 

Another  of  Mackay ’s  tasks  at  this  time  was 
imposed  on  him  by  the  death  of  Mtesa’s  mother, 
and  consisted  in  the  manufacture  of  what  the 
king  considered  a fitting  receptacle  for  the 
corpse  of  so  august  a personage.  It  was  a 
triple  series  of  coffins — an  inner  one  of  wood,  a 


31 


King  Mwanga 

middle  one  of  copper,  and  an  outer  one  of 
wood  covered  with  cloth.  Everything  had  to 
be  made  as  large  as  possible,  and  to  fulfil  the 
office  of  undertaker  on  this  Brobdingnagian 
scale  the  handy  missionary  had  to  toil  inces- 
santly for  thirty  days,  and  latterly  all  through 
the  night  as  well.  The  outer  coffin  was  made 
of  ioo  boards  nailed  together,  with  strong 
ribs  like  the  sides  of  a schooner,  and  was  so 
enormous  that  it  looked  like  a house  rather 
than  a coffin,  and  required  the  assistance  of  a 
whole  army  of  men  that  it  might  be  lowered 
safely  into  the  grave,  which,  again,  was  a huge 
pit  twenty  feet  long,  fifteen  feet  broad,  and 
about  thirty  feet  deep. 

At  last  Mtesa  died,  worn  out  prematurely  by 
his  vices,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  son 
Mwanga,  a youth  of  about  seventeen,  who 
inherited  his  father’s  worst  qualities,  but  none 
of  his  good  ones.  Then  began  a time  of  fiery 
trial  for  the  mission.  Mackay  and  his  com- 
panions were  daily  threatened  with  death,  and 
death  was  made  the  penalty  of  listening  to  their 
teaching  or  even  of  reading  the  Bible  in  secret. 
Many  of  Mackay ’s  pupils  and  converts  were 


32 


Murder  of  Bishop  Hannington 

tortured  and  burnt  to  death  ; but  in  Uganda  as 
elsewhere  the  old  saying  came  true  that  “ the 
blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed  of  the  Church.” 
Inquirers  became  far  more  numerous  than  ever  ; 
men  stole  into  the  houses  of  the  missionaries  by 
night  and  begged  to  be  baptized  ; and  there 
were  cases  where  bolder  ones  went  openly  to 
the  court  and  proclaimed  that  they  were  Chris- 
tians, though  they  knew  that  their  confession 
would  immediately  be  followed  by  a cruel 
death.  Sir  H.  M.  Stanley  said  of  this  martyr 
Church  of  Uganda  that  he  took  it  to  be  “a 
more  substantial  evidence  of  the  work  of 
Mackay  than  any  number  of  imposing  structures 
clustered  together  and  called  a mission  station 
would  be.”  Certain  it  is  that  it  was  by  the 
tearful  sowing  of  Mackay  and  his  companions 
in  those  gloomy  days  that  there  was  brought 
about  that  time  of  plentiful  and  joyful  reaping 
which  came  in  Uganda  by  and  by. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  culminating  tragedy 
in  this  story  of  tyranny  and  bloodshed,  and  the 
moment  when  the  faith  and  courage  of  the 
missionaries  were  most  severely  tested.  They 
knew  that  Mr.  Hannington  had  been  con- 


c 


33 


Murder  of  Bishop  Hannington 

secrated  Bishop  of  East  Equatorial  Africa  and 
was  on  his  way  to  Uganda  from  the  coast. 
And  they  had  heard  with  much  concern  that, 
instead  of  following  the  customary  route  to  the 
south  end  of  the  lake,  he  was  marching  through 
the  Masai  country  on  the  east  towards  the 
district  of  Usoga  at  the  northern  extremity  of 
the  Victoria  Nyanza,  with  the  intention  of 
entering  Uganda  from  that  quarter.  The 
ground  of  their  concern  lay  in  the  fact  that 
the  people  of  Uganda  looked  upon  Usoga  as 
their  private  “ back  door,”  through  which  no 
strangers,  and  especially  no  white  men,  should 
be  permitted  to  approach.  There  was  an  old 
prophecy  among  them  that  their  country  was  to 
be  conquered  by  a people  coming  from  the 
east,  and  when  word  was  brought  that  white 
men  with  a large  caravan  of  followers  had  made 
their  appearance  in  Usoga,  Mwanga  and  his 
councillors  grew  excited  and  alarmed.  Mackay 
guessed  at  once  who  the  advancing  travellers 
would  be,  and  did  everything  he  could  to 
reassure  the  king  as  to  Hannington’s  purpose 
in  coming  to  his  country.  But  in  spite  of  all 
his  efforts,  a band  of  soldiers  was  secretly  dis- 


34 


Murder  of  Bishop  Hannington 

patched  to  intercept  and  massacre  the  Bishop 
and  his  followers  ; and  soon  the  news  spread 
throughout  all  Uganda  that  Mwanga’s  in- 
structions had  been  literally  fulfilled.  The 
murder  of  the  Bishop  seemed  to  whet  the 
tyrant’s  appetite  for  Christian  blood,  and  a 
general  persecution  followed  in  which  the  very 
flower  of  the  native  converts  were  slain,  while 
the  lives  of  the  missionaries  themselves  con- 
stantly hung  by  a single  thread — the  king 
being  kept  from  ordering  their  instant  execution 
only  by  the  powerful  influence  of  his  Katikoro 
or  Prime  Minister,  who  urged  him  to  remember 
all  that  Mackay  had  done  for  his  father  in  the 
past. 

At  length  Mr.  Ashe,  Mackay ’s  only  remain- 
ing companion,  got  permission  to  return  to 
England,  while  Mackay  himself  was  allowed 
to  withdraw  to  the  south  end  of  the  lake. 
Much  as  he  needed  a rest,  he  could  not  be 
persuaded  to  turn  his  back  on  Africa  at  this 
critical  juncture.  Nor  did  he  cross  the  lake 
through  any  personal  fears,  but  only  because 
he  was  convinced  that  it  might  be  best 
for  the  native  Christians  that  his  presence 


35 


A Visit  from  Stanley 

should  be  removed  for  a time.  He  went 
accordingly  to  the  district  of  Usambiro,  south 
of  the  lake,  and  immediately  started  mission 
work  there,  devoting  himself  at  the  same  time 
to  the  task  of  translating  and  printing  portions 
of  Scripture  for  the  Uganda  people,  so  that 
even  in  his  absence  the  Divine  word  might 
continue  to  win  its  way  in  many  hearts. 

It  was  whilst  he  was  at  Usambiro  that  Stan- 
ley and  he  first  met.  The  distinguished 
explorer  was  then  on  his  way  back  to  the 
coast  after  his  relief  of  Emin  Pasha,  and  to 
him  and  his  companions  it  was  a welcome 
relief,  as  several  of  them  have  testified — an 
oasis  in  the  desert  of  African  travel, — to  come 
in  the  midst  of  their  long  and  weary  march 
upon  Mackay’s  mission  station  at  Usambiro. 
In  his  book,  In  Darkest  Africa  (vol.  II,  pp. 
388-389),  Stanley  himself  gives  a graphic 
description  of  the  meeting,  and  thus  records 
his  impressions  of  the  young  Scotch  missionary 
and  the  work  in  which  they  found  him  quietly 
and  steadily  engaged  : — 

“ Talking  thus,  we  entered  the  circle  of  tall 
poles  within  which  the  mission  station  was 

36 


A Visit  from  Stanley 

built.  There  were  signs  of  labour  and  con- 
stant, unwearying  patience,  sweating  under  a 
hot  sun,  a steadfast  determination  to  do  some- 
thing to  keep  the  mind  employed,  and  never 
let  idleness  find  them  with  folded  hands  brood- 
ing over  the  unloveliness,  lest  despair  might 
seize  them  and  cause  them  to  avail  themselves 
of  the  speediest  means  of  ending  their  misery. 
There  was  a big,  solid  workshop  in  the  yard, 
filled  with  machinery  and  tools,  a launch’s 
boiler  was  being  prepared  by  the  blacksmiths, 
a big  canoe  was  outside  repairing  ; there  were 
sawpits  and  large  logs  of  hard  timber,  there 
were  great  stacks  of  palisade  poles,  in  a corner 
of  an  outer  yard  was  a cattle-fold  and  a goat- 
pen,  fowls  by  the  score  pecked  at  microscopic 
grains,  and  out  of  the  European  quarter  there 
trooped  a number  of  little  boys  and  big  boys 
looking  uncommonly  sleek  and  happy,  and 
quiet  labourers  came  up  to  bid  us,  with  hats 
off,  4 Good  morning  ! ’ 

***** 

44  A clever  writer  lately  wrote  a book  about 
a man  who  spent  much  time  in  Africa,  which 


37 


A Visit  from  Stanley 

from  beginning  to  end  is  a long-drawn  wail. 
It  would  have  cured  both  writer  and  hero  of 
all  moping  to  have  seen  the  manner  of  Mac- 
kay’s  life.  He  has  no  time  to  fret  and  groan 
and  weep  ; and  God  knows,  if  ever  man  had 
reason  to  think  of  ‘graves  and  worms  and 
oblivion/  and  to  be  doleful  and  lonely  and 
sad,  Mackay  had,  when,  after  murdering 
his  Bishop,  and  burning  his  pupils,  and 
strangling  his  converts,  and  clubbing  to  death 
his  dark  friends,  Mwanga  turned  his  eye  of 
death  on  him.  And  yet  the  little  man  met  it 
with  calm  blue  eyes  that  never  winked.  To 
see  one  man  of  this  kind  working  day  after  day 
for  twelve  years  bravely,  and  without  a syllable 
of  complaint  or  a moan  amid  the  ‘wildernesses,’ 
and  to  hear  him  lead  his  little  flock  to  show 
forth  God’s  loving-kindness  in  the  morning 
and  His  faithfulness  every  night,  is  worth 
going  a long  journey  for  the  moral  courage 
and  contentment  that  one  derives  from  it.” 
Stanley  spent  twenty  days  at  Usambiro, 
enjoying  to  the  full  the  society  and  hospitality 
of  his  missionary  friend.  On  the  day  that  the 
expedition  left  Mackay  walked  with  the  travel- 

38 


Mackay’s  Death 

lers  for  some  distance,  but  bade  them  good-bye 
at  last,  and  stood  on  the  path  waving  his  hat 
till  they  passed  out  of  sight.  One  of  Stanley’s 
officers  wrote  afterwards,  “That  lonely  figure 
standing  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  waving  fare- 
well to  us,  will  ever  remain  vividly  in  my 
mind.” 

The  end  of  this  heroic  life  came  not  long 
after.  Mackay  was  struck  down  in  the  midst 
of  his  labours  by  a sharp  attack  of  malarial 
fever,  which  he  had  not  the  strength  to  resist, 
and  after  some  days  of  delirium  he  passed 
quietly  away.  He  has  been  called  “The 
Hero  of  Uganda,”  and  the  record  of  his  life 
shows  that  he  would  be  worthy  of  the  name, 
even  though  no  great  apparent  fruitage  had 
come  from  all  his  toils  and  trials.  But  the 
events  that  have  followed  since  his  death  help 
us  to  a clearer  estimate  of  the  richness  of  the 
seeds  he  sowed,  often  in  manifold  pain  and 
sorrow,  in  those  first  days  of  Christianity  on 
the  shores  of  the  Victoria  Nyanza.  The  Rev. 
J.  S.  Moffat,  son  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Moffat 
and  brother-in-law  of  Dr.  Livingstone,  writing 
in  August,  1904,  in  the  Aurora,  the  journal  of 


39 


An  Easter  Sunday 

the  Livingstonia  Presbyterian  Mission  on  the 
west  of  Lake  Nyasa,  gives  a vivid  description 
of  a recent  visit  to  Uganda,  and  thus  pictures 
the  scene  he  witnessed  on  Easter  Sunday  in 
the  Cathedral  Church  at  Namirembe  : — 

“ From  where  I sat  I could  see  at  least 
three  thousand  faces.  I was  told  that  there 
was  still  a crowd  outside — of  those  who  could 
not  find  room  : and  there  was  a separate  and 
simultaneous  service  being  conducted  in  an 
adjacent  building,  at  which  at  least  five  hun- 
dred younger  people  were  assembled.  In  the 
cathedral  we  joined  in  the  stately  service  of  the 
Anglican  Church,  never  so  stately  and  impres- 
sive as  when  it  is  rendered  in  noble  simplicity, 
free  from  the  adventitious  accompaniment  and 
the  vicarious  performance  of  a highly  artistic 
choir. 

“There  was  something  more  real  and  solemn 
than  this  in  the  vast  murmur,  almost  a thunder- 
roll,  of  thousands  of  responding  voices,  the 
voices  of  men  and  women  who  had  been  born 
in  the  most  degraded  and  darkest  heathenism, 
the  people  that  sat  in  darkness  but  had  seen  a 
great  light ; the  Easter  sun  shining  upon  the 


40 


An  Easter  Sunday 

stone  that  had  been  rolled  away,  and  upon  the 
open  grave.” 

Note. — The  chief  authorities  for  Mackay’s  life  are  Mackay  of 
Uganda  and  The  Story  of  Mackay  of  Uganda,  both  written  by  his 
sister,  and  published  by  Hodder  and  Stoughton ; Two  Kings  of 
Uganda , by  Rev.  R.  P.  Ashe,  m.a.  (Sampson  Low,  Marston, 
and  Co.). 


4i 


THE  LION-HEARTED  BISHOP 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  LION-HEARTED  BISHOP 


“ Mad  Jim  ” — An  ideal  pioneer — A novel  way  of  landing  in  Africa — 
**  Teek,  teek,  teek  ” — Encounter  with  lions — Turned  back  from 
the  goal — Bishop  of  East  Equatorial  Africa — The  new  route  to 
Uganda — Through  Masailand — The  El  Moran — Greasy  bed- 
fellow's— The  forbidden  land — Martyrdom. 


HERE  is  no  chapter  in  the  story  of 


modern  missions  which  has  more  of  the 
romantic  element  about  it  than  that  which  tells 
how  the  Kingdom  of  Uganda,  within  less  than 
a generation,  was  turned  from  a land  of  heathen 
darkness  and  cruelty  to  one  in  which  on  the 
Lord’s  Day  such  scenes  of  devout  Christian 
worship  are  to  be  witnessed  in  church  and 
cathedral  as  are  described  on  a preceding  page 
in  the  language  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Moffat.  We 
have  spoken  of  Alexander  Mackay  as  the  hero 
of  Uganda ; and  undoubtedly  it  was  he  more 
than  any  other  who  sowed  in  that  land  the  seed 
which  has  been  reaped  so  plentifully  since. 
But  there  is  another  name  which  the  Church 


45 


“Mad  Jim” 


of  Uganda  must  ever  cherish  side  by  side  with 
Mackay’s — the  name  of  that  lion-hearted  man, 
Bishop  Hannington,  who  literally  laid  down 
his  life  for  her  sake.  It  is  true  that  Hannington 
never  saw  Uganda.  And  yet  during  his  brief 
missionary  career  it  was  for  Uganda  most  of 
all  that  he  prayed  and  toiled  and  suffered,  and 
it  was  for  Uganda,  too,  that  he  died  at  last  a 
martyr’s  death.  When  the  soldiers  of  the  cruel 
Mwanga  were  about  to  thrust  their  spears  into 
his  body  as  he  stood  on  the  very  threshold  of 
the  land  he  had  sought  so  long,  he  bade  them 
tell  their  king  “that  he  was  about  to  die  for 
Uganda,  and  that  he  had  purchased  the  road  to 
Uganda  with  his  life.” 

James  Hannington  was  the  very  ideal  of  a 
pioneer  missionary.  Full  of  physical  vitality 
and  animal  spirits,  and  absolutely  devoid  of 
fear,  he  spent  his  boyhood  in  all  kinds  of  ad- 
ventures by  land  and  water,  which  sometimes 
developed  into  schoolboy  scrapes  of  the  kind 
that  Mr.  Kipling  describes  so  vividly  in  Stalky 
and  Co.  When  only  twelve,  he  had  the  thumb 
of  his  left  hand  blown  off  by  some  damp  gun- 
powder squibs  or  “blue  devils,”  which  he  had 

46 


“Mad  Jim” 

manufactured  with  a view  to  taking  a wasp’s 
nest.  And  in  after  years,  when  a young  curate, 
he  often  alarmed  the  parishioners  by  his  reck- 
less feats  as  a climber  and  egg-hunter  on  the 
Devonshire  cliffs. 

But  in  the  heart  of  “ Mad  Jim,”  as  he  had 
been  called  at  school,  there  grew  up  a great 
love  for  Christ,  and  a desire  to  serve  Him  in 
the  ministry  of  the  Church.  And  when  he  took 
Holy  Orders,  after  studying  at  Oxford,  it 
proved  that  his  adventurous  spirit,  his  athletic 
habits,  and  his  frank  outspoken  manliness  gave 
him  a power  over  many  minds  which  the 
ordinary  clergyman  mostly  fails  to  reach.  By 
and  by  the  stirrings  of  the  heart  began  to  urge 
him  forth  to  a larger  and  more  difficult  field 
than  he  could  find  at  home.  In  particular, 
when  word  came  to  England  of  the  murder  of 
Lieutenant  Smith  and  Mr.  O’Neill  on  the  Vic- 
toria Nyanza,  he  felt  the  impulse  of  the  brave 
soldier  to  step  into  the  gap  where  a comrade 
has  fallen.  And  when  the  Church  Missionary 
Society  decided  to  send  a fresh  party  to  Uganda 
to  reinforce  Mackay,  who  was  holding  the 
ground  with  a single  companion  in  the  face  of 


47 


An  Ideal  Pioneer 

infinite  difficulties  and  discouragements,  Han- 
nington  was  one  of  the  first  to  volunteer.  He 
was  most  happily  settled  by  this  time  as  incum- 
bent of  St.  George’s  Chapel,  Hurstpierpoint, 
the  home  of  his  boyhood  and  youth,  and  had 
besides  a wife  and  young  children  to  whom  he 


was  passionately  attached.  But  the  call  he 
heard  was  one  to  which  he  could  give  no  denial. 
For  Christ  and  for  Africa  he  felt  that  he  must 
be  willing  to  suffer  the  loss  of  all  things. 

Hannington  was  appointed  leader  of  the  new 
party,  which  consisted  of  six  men  ; and  his 
instructions  were  to  endeavour  to  reach  Uganda 

48 


A Novel  Way  of  Landing 

from  Zanzibar  by  what  was  then  the  ordinary 
route,  viz.,  to  the  south  end  of  the  Victoria 
Nyanza,  and  thereafter  by  boat  across  the  Lake 
to  Rubaga,  King  Mtesa’s  capital.  His  first 
landing  in  Africa  was  thoroughly  like  himself. 
The  thirty  miles  of  channel  between  Zanzibar 
and  the  mainland  was  crossed  in  a filthy  Arab 
dhow,  but  the  water  was  so  shallow  that  the 
vessel  could  not  get  within  half  a mile  of  the 
shore.  A dug-out  canoe  put  off  to  their  assist- 
ance, in  which  the  rest  of  the  passengers  were 
conveyed  to  land  two  or  three  at  a time.  But 
as  the  sea  was  rough  the  waves  broke  con- 
stantly over  the  canoe,  nearly  filling  it  with 
water.  Hannington  said  “that  he  preferred  a 
regular  bathe  to  a foot-bath  with  his  boots  on. 
So  he  stripped  off  his  clothes,  put  them  into  a 
bag  which  he  carried  on  his  head,  and  dis- 
regarding the  sharks,  he  waded  and  stumbled 
and  swam  over  the  half-mile  of  rough  coral  and 
through  the  breakers  which  lay  between  the 
vessel  and  the  beach.  So  he  landed  on  the 
coast  of  Africa  in  a manner  quite  character- 
istic.” 

When  Hannington  went  up  for  his  exam- 


D 


49 


Curious  Savages 

ination  before  being  ordained,  he  did  not  make 
a very  brilliant  appearance,  and  the  Bishop, 
after  looking  him  all  over,  said,  4 ‘You’ve  got 
fine  legs,  I see  : mind  that  you  run  about  your 
parish.”  His  parish  now  was  East  Central 
Africa  ; and  it  was  well  that  he  had  good  legs. 
Practically  the  whole  of  his  life  as  a missionary 
was  spent  in  journeying  up  and  down  this  vast 
region.  But  to  a man  of  his  temperament, 
though  the  motive  of  carrying  the  Gospel  to 
the  heart  of  the  African  continent  was  the 
central  one,  exploration  and  adventure  were 
very  welcome  in  themselves,  and  he  entered 
into  his  new  experiences  with  much  of  the  zest 
of  his  boyish  days.  Here  is  a description 
written  to  his  nephews  and  nieces,  and  accom- 
panied by  one  of  those  droll  sketches  with 
which  he  often  embellished  his  letters  to  familiar 
friends  : — 

“ Fancy  a set  of  hideous  savages  regarding 
your  uncle  as  a strange,  outlandish  creature, 
frightful  to  behold ! ‘ Are  those  your  feet, 

white  man  ? ’ ‘ No,  gentlemen,  they  are  not. 

They  are  my  sandals.’  ‘ But,  do  they  grow  to 
your  feet?’  ‘ No,  gentlemen,  they  do  not.  I 


50 


Curious  Savages 

will  show  you/  So  I would  unlace  a boot.  A 
roar  of  astonishment  followed  when  they  saw 
my  blue  sock,  as  they  thought  my  feet  must  be 
blue  and  toeless.  I pulled  off  the  sock,  and 
they  were  dumbfounded  at  the  sight  of  my 


The  Bishop  and  the  Mutinous  Boatman 
From  a sketch  by  Bishop  Hannington 


white,  five-toed  foot.  They  used  to  think  that 
only  my  face  and  hands  were  white,  and  the 
rest  of  me  black  like  themselves.  My  watch, 
too,  was  an  unfailing  attraction.  ‘There  is  a 
man  in  it/  ‘It  is  Lubari ; it  is  witchcraft/ 


5 


“Teek,  Teek,  Teek” 


they  would  cry.  6 He  talks  ; he  says,  Teek, 
teek,  teek.’  My  nose  they  would  compare 
with  a spear,  it  struck  them  as  so  sharp  and 
thin  as  compared  with  their  own.  Often  one 
would  give  my  hair  a smart  pull  to  try  whether 
it  were  a wig  and  would  come  off.” 

There  were  times  when  the  experiences  of 
the  travellers  were  more  dangerous  than  amus- 
ing, for  there  were  murderous  robbers  in  some 
of  the  forests,  who  were  ever  on  the  watch  to 
pounce  upon  unwary  strangers,  and  there  were 
deep  pits,  cunningly  covered  over  with  twigs 
and  grass,  and  with  upright  spears  at  the 
bottom,  which  were  used  by  the  natives  as 
traps  for  the  larger  kinds  of  game.  To  stumble 
into  one  of  these  means  almost  certainly  a 
horrible  death.  Hannington  himself  fell  into 
one,  but  fortunately  in  this  case  the  spears 
were  wanting ; and  he  was  not  dangerously 
hurt,  though  much  shaken  and  bruised. 

It  was  fitting  that  this  lion-hearted  mis- 
sionary should  have  more  than  one  exciting 
encounter  with  lions.  The  most  thrilling  of  all 
took  place  one  day  when  he  had  gone  out  to 
shoot,  accompanied  by  a single  boy.  Seeing  a 


52 


Encounter  with  Lions 

small  animal  moving  through  the  long  grass  in 
front,  he  fired,  and  the  creature  rolled  over 
quite  dead.  On  coming  up  to  it  he  discovered 
that  it  was  nothing  less  than  a lions  whelp. 
Immediately  the  boy  shouted,  “ Run,  master, 
run  ! ” and  took  to  his  heels  as  hard  as  he 


A Visit  from  a Hippopotamus 
From  a sketch  by  Bishop  Hannington 


could.  His  terror  was  not  premature,  for  the 
next  moment,  with  terrific  roars,  a large  lion 
and  lioness  came  bounding  towards  Hanning- 
ton  out  of  the  jungle.  His  gun  was  empty,  he 
had  no  time  to  reload  ; but  though  his  natural 
impulse  was  to  run,  he  felt  at  once  that  this 


53 


Encounter  with  Lions 

would  be  fatal.  So  he  stood  his  ground,  and 
when  the  lions  came  near  growling  and  lashing 
their  tails  and  glaring  at  this  intruder,  he  only- 
glared  back  at  them  with  steady  eyes.  This 
unflinching  courage  completely  subdued  them, 
and  as  they  stood  staring  fiercely  at  him,  he 
gradually  retreated  backwards  for  a hundred 
yards  or  so,  facing  them  all  the  while,  and  then 
turned  and  quietly  walked  away.  Most  men, 
however  brave,  would  have  been  content  with 
this  victory.  But  Hannington  was  not  content; 
for  he  now  determined  to  go  back  and  secure 
the  young  lion’s  skin  if  possible.  As  he  drew 
near  again  he  saw  that  the  lion  and  its  mate 
were  walking  round  and  round  the  dead  body 
of  their  whelp,  licking  it,  and  turning  it  over, 
and  trying  to  restore  it  to  life.  Throwing  his 
arms  into  the  air  and  yelling  as  loud  as  he 
could,  he  rushed  forward ; and  the  fierce  beasts, 
which  evidently  had  never  met  such  a person  as 
this  before,  fairly  turned  tail  and  leaped  away 
into  the  bush.  Whereupon  Hannington  seized 
his  prize,  and  by  and  by  marched  into  camp 
carrying  it  triumphantly  on  his  shoulders. 

The  Victoria  Nyanza  was  reached  about 


54 


Bishop  IIannington’s  Encounter  with  an  Elephant  and  a Rhinoceros 


Turned  Back  from  the  Goal 

Christmas,  1882,  after  a weary  journey  of 
several  months,  marked  not  only  by  dangers 
from  lions,  leopards,  rhinos,  and  buffaloes,  but 
by  constant  worries  and  anxieties  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  expedition  was  very  badly  provided 
with  supplies.  At  first  it  seemed  to  Hanning- 
ton  that  his  journey  was  almost  at  an  end,  for 
only  the  great  sheet  of  water  now  separated 
him  from  Uganda.  But,  like  Mackay  before 
him,  he  soon  found  that  his  worst  troubles  were 
yet  to  come.  In  the  meantime  they  had  no 
means  of  crossing,  and  while  Hannington  toiled 
to  make  arrangements  he  took  a violent  attack 
of  malarial  fever,  and  was  quickly  reduced  to 
such  terrible  weakness  that  his  companions 
agreed  that  his  only  chance  of  saving  his  life 
lay  in  returning  to  England  immediately.  And 
so,  when  almost  within  sight  of  his  goal,  he 
had  to  turn  back,  and  allow  himself  to  be 
carried  in  a hammock  all  the  dreary  way  back 
to  Zanzibar.  Catching  a mail  steamer,  he  got 
safely  home  to  England,  and  was  received 
again  into  his  beloved  circle  at  Hurstpierpoint 
“almost,”  as  his  biographer  Mr.  Dawson  puts 
it,  “as  one  alive  from  the  dead.” 


55 


The  Task  Resumed 

At  first  it  seemed  certain  that  he  would  never 
see  Africa  again  ; but  gradually  his  strength 
returned,  and  with  it  a keen  desire  to  resume 
the  task  he  had  undertaken.  Meantime  the 
directors  of  the  Church  Missionary  Society, 
who  had  long  been  anxious  to  secure  a Bishop 
to  take  the  oversight  of  all  the  churches  they 
had  planted  in  East  Central  Africa,  singled 
him  out  as  pre-eminently  qualified  for  the 
position,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
cordially  agreed  to  consecrate  him.  In  the 
summer  of  1884,  accordingly,  he  became 
Bishop  of  East  Equatorial  Africa,  a diocese 
which  embraced  not  Uganda  only,  but  the 
immense  region  which  lies  between  the  Victoria 
Nyanza  and  the  coast.  Uganda,  however,  was 
still  his  chief  concern,  and  his  failure  to  reach 
it  on  the  first  attempt  made  him  all  the  more 
determined  to  visit  it  now  without  delay,  and 
to  endeavour  to  bring  some  comfort  to  its  per- 
secuted Christians  and  some  help  to  the  brave 
Mackay,  who  still  held  the  fort  for  Christ  and 
the  Church  in  that  unhappy  land  in  which  the 
debased  and  cruel  Mwanga  was  now  king. 

Having  set  things  in  order  at  the  stations 

56 


The  New  Route  to  Uganda 

near  the  coast,  and  paid  a flying  visit  to  Mount 
Kilimanjaro  for  the  purpose  of  planting  the 
banner  of  the  cross  upon  its  very  slopes,  the 
Bishop  therefore  began  at  once  to  make  pre- 
parations for  his  second  and  last  journey  to- 
wards Uganda.  And  now  he  came  to  what 
proved  to  be  a fateful  decision.  Hitherto  the 
missionaries  had  started  from  Zanzibar  and 
made  for  the  south  end  of  the  lake,  thereafter 
crossing  the  Victoria  Nyanza  in  boats.  But 
Hannington  knew  by  painful  experience  the 
difficulties  of  that  route — its  undue  length,  its 
exasperating  delays,  the  deadly  influences  of  its 
fever-haunted  swamps.  He  conceived  the  idea 
of  a new  line  of  march  which,  starting  not  from 
Zanzibar  but  from  Mombasa,  about  150  miles 
nearer  the  Equator,  should  aim  not  at  the  south 
of  the  lake  but  at  the  north.  For  one  thing, 
this  route  would  be  considerably  shorter. 
Moreover,  as  his  brief  visit  to  Kilimanjaro  had 
shown,  instead  of  passing  through  a low-lying 
country,  it  would  lead  to  a large  extent  over 
healthy  uplands  where  travelling  would  be  safe 
for  Europeans.  The  one  great  difficulty  he 
thought  of,  a difficulty  which  until  lately  had 


57 


Through  Masailand 

seemed  insurmountable,  was  the  fact  that  he 
would  be  obliged  to  traverse  the  country  of  the 
Masai,  whose  very  name  was  a word  of  terror 
for  hundreds  of  miles  around.  But  not  long 
before,  that  intrepid  young  Scotchman,  Mr. 
Joseph  Thomson,  had  explored  the  Masai 
country  without  coming  to  any  harm  ; and  a 
close  study  of  his  fascinating  book,  Through 
Masai  Land,  had  set  the  Bishop  thinking.  If 
an  explorer  could  make  his  way  among  the 
Masai,  why  not  a Christian  missionary  ? Any- 
how, he  meant  to  try,  for  he  was  convinced  that 
if  this  route  was  at  all  practicable,  the  choice  of 
it  in  the  future  would  mean  to  the  Society  an 
immense  saving  of  time  and  money,  as  well  as 
of  precious  lives. 

Unfortunately  there  was  one  element  in  the 
case  which  escaped  all  Hannington’s  calcula- 
tions, and  brought  about  the  tragedy  of  which 
we  have  to  tell.  He  did  not  know  that  the 
kings  of  Uganda  regarded  the  country  of 
Usoga,  to  the  north  of  the  lake,  through  which 
he  would  have  to  pass,  as  their  “back  door,” 
by  which  no  white  man  must  be  allowed  to 
enter.  Nor  was  he  aware  that  that  very 

58 


Through  Masailand 

journey  of  Joseph  Thomson’s,  from  which  he 
was  drawing  encouragement,  had  caused  a 
great  flutter  at  the  court  of  Mtesa,  and  that  it 
was  well  for  that  bold  traveller  that  he  had 
turned  back  after  merely  touching  the  lake  at 
its  north-eastern  extremity,  without  attempting 
to  advance  farther.  No  blame,  however,  can 
be  ascribed  to  the  Bishop  for  his  ignorance,  nor 
can  he  be  accused  of  acting  rashly.  His  plans 
were  made  with  the  approval  of  both  the  Sultan 
of  Zanzibar  and  Sir  John  Kirk,  the  British 
Consul,  with  the  latter  of  whom  he  had  frequent 
consultations  before  starting  on  his  ill-fated 
journey. 

In  the  meantime  something  like  his  old 
strength  and  vigour  had  returned,  as  may  be 
judged  from  the  fact  that,  on  a preliminary 
tramp  up  country  in  connexion  with  some  of 
his  episcopal  duties,  he  marched  back  to  the 
coast,  a distance  of  120  miles,  in  exactly  three 
days  and  half  an  hour — forty  miles  a day  on  an 
average — a feat  which  is  perhaps  unexampled 
in  the  annals  of  African  travel. 

It  was  in  July,  1 885,  that  he  finally  set  off  from 
Mombasa  at  the  head  of  a caravan  200  strong. 


59 


Through  Masailand 

He  knew  that  he  must  be  prepared  to  face  many 
dangers.  i i Starvation,”  he  wrote,  “ desertion, 
treachery,  and  a few  other  nightmares  and 
furies  hover  over  our  heads  in  ghastly  forms.” 
But  nothing  disturbed  the  flow  of  his  spirits. 
His  biographer  gives  us  this  glimpse  of  the 
Bishop  on  the  march:  “All  the  way  during 
that  march  to  Taita  his  letters  reveal  him  to  us, 
till  we  seem  to  see  him  as  he  strides  ahead  with 
that  springy  step  of  his.  Arms  swinging,  eyes 
ever  on  the  alert  to  notice  anything  new  or 
remarkable,  now  a snatch  of  song,  again  a 
shout  of  encouragement,  a leap  upon  some  rare 
flower  or  insect — the  very  life  and  soul  of  his 
company,  while  ever  and  anon  his  emphatic 
voice  would  be  raised  in  the  notes  of  some  old 
familiar  tune,  and  the  wilderness  would  ring  to 
the  sound  of  a Christian  hymn — 

“ Peace,  perfect  peace,  the  future  all  unknown  ; 

Jesus  we  know,  and  He  is  on  the  throne.” 

By  and  by  his  correspondence  ceases,  as  he 
vanishes  into  a region  which  knows  not  the 
post  office  even  in  its  most  primitive  forms. 
Fortunately,  however,  his  little  pocket-diary 
was  recovered  from  one  of  the  band  that  mur- 


60 


The  El  Moran 

dered  him,  and  much  additional  light  has  been 
shed  upon  that  last  journey  by  Mr.  Jones,  a 
newly  ordained  native  clergyman  whom  he  had 
taken  with  him  as  his  companion. 

The  new  route  proved  to  be  less  easy  than 
Hannington  had  hoped,  and  the  caravan,  be- 
sides having  to  fight  its  way  through  obstinate 
jungles,  had  a good  deal  of  trouble  with  un- 
friendly natives,  even  before  reaching  the  land 
of  the  much-dreaded  Masai — the  scourges  at 
that  time  of  East  Central  Africa.  The  Masai 
are  not  negroes,  or  members  of  the  great  Bantu 
family  by  which  the  greater  part  of  the  African 
continent  is  inhabited,  but  belong  to  what 
ethnologists  call  the  Hamitic  race,  occupying 
a distinctly  higher  position  in  the  scale  of 
humanity.  Up  to  the  age  of  thirty,  Mr.  Joseph 
Thomson  tells  us,  every  young  Masai  is  a 
warrior,  and  these  warriors,  or  El  Moran  as 
they  are  called,  live  in  huge  kraals  or  military 
barracks  large  enough  to  accommodate  2000  of 
them  at  a time,  from  which  they  issue  periodi- 
cally on  murdering  and  marauding  expeditions. 
The  arrogance  and  insolence  of  the  warrior 
class  is  unbounded,  while  any  attempt  at  resent- 


61 


The  El  Moran 

ing  it  is  met  at  once  by  the  uplifting  of  a forest 
of  their  great  broad-bladed  spears. 

With  these  Masai  Bishop  Hannington  had 
a trying  time.  It  was  quite  impossible  to  keep 
the  young  warriors  out  of  his  tent,  and  they 
came  crowding  in  at  their  pleasure  demanding 
hongoy  which  is  the  name  for  an  enforced  present, 
and  making  themselves  free  with  everything. 
His  chair,  his  bed,  his  wash-tub,  his  biscuit- 
boxes  were  all  covered  with  dirty,  sprawling 
figures,  and  he  himself  was  subjected  to  im- 
pertinences of  every  kind.  They  stroked  his 
hair,  pulled  his  beard,  felt  his  cheeks,  and  tried 
on  his  clothes  ; and  not  only  fingered  all  his 
personal  belongings,  but  spat  upon  them, 
that  being  the  Masai  token  of  appreciation. 
Again  and  again  destruction  seemed  to  be 
hanging  over  the  camp  by  a single  thread,  for 
the  El  Moran  like  nothing  better  than  an  ex- 
cuse for  slaughter,  and  if  any  one  had  lost  his 
temper  for  a moment,  it  might  have  been  the 
signal  for  a wholesale  massacre.  But  at  this 
time  the  Bishop  and  his  men  were  mercifully 
preserved.  He  notes  in  his  diary,  “ I strove 
in  prayer  ; and  each  time  trouble  seemed  to 


62 


A Mock  Duel  between  Two  Masai  Warrior: 


Greasy  Bed-fellows 

be  averted.  ” And  it  would  appear  that  even 
those  fierce  people  felt  the  power  of  Hanning- 
ton’s  brotherliness.  They  were  by  no  means 
agreeable  company,  with  their  spitting  habits, 
and  the  grease  and  red  earth  with  which  they 
daubed  their  bodies  and  so  smeared  everything 
they  touched.  But  once  when  three  of  them 
had  come  with  an  ox  for  sale,  Hannington  in- 
vited them  to  stay  with  him  all  night,  as  it  was 
getting  late  and  their  kraal  was  far  off ; and, 
rather  to  his  surprise,  they  consented  quite 
gratefully.  So  the  Bishop  and  the  three  warriors 
lay  down  side  by  side  on  the  floor  of  the  little 
tent,  and  though  the  Masai  slept  with  their 
spears  beside  them,  he  neither  showed  nor  felt 
the  slightest  fear.  He  writes,  “ They  packed 
themselves  away  like  sardines  in  a box,  and  I 
covered  them  over  first  with  a leopards  skin, 
then  with  a grass  mat,  and  finally  a waterproof 
sheet.  They  fell  almost  instantly  into  a most 
gentle  sleep.  I followed  their  example  and, 
with  one  exception,  I did  not  wake  up  until 
time  to  start.  Wherever  we  meet  we  are  to  be 
brothers.” 

Soon  after  passing  through  the  Masai  country 

63 


The  Forbidden  Land 

the  travellers  came  to  Kavirondo,  a region 
which  no  white  man  but  Mr.  Joseph  Thomson 
had  ever  visited,  while  even  he  had  not  at- 
tempted to  go  farther.  Between  them  and 
Uganda  nothing  now  lay  but  the  forbidden 
land  of  Usoga.  At  this  stage,  owing  to  the 
uncertainty  of  the  route,  Hannington  decided 
to  leave  Mr.  Jones  with  the  bulk  of  the  cara- 
van encamped  in  Kavirondo,  and  to  push  on 
himself  towards  Uganda  with  fifty  of  his  men. 

News  travels  swiftly  even  in  Africa,  and  the 
cruel  Mwanga  was  by  this  time  perfectly  aware 
of  the  white  man’s  advance,  and,  as  we  learn 
from  Mackay,  was  greatly  concerned  about  it. 
Mackay  did  all  he  could  to  reassure  the  king 
and  his  advisers,  but  without  effect.  Mwanga 
decided  that  this  daring  stranger  must  die,  and 
sent  orders  to  Lubwa,  an  Usoga  chief,  who  was 
his  puppet  in  the  matter,  to  have  him  and  his 
followers  arrested.  For  fully  a week  they  were 
kept  in  close  confinement,  until  a band  of 
Mwanga’s  soldiers  arrived  with  secret  orders 
to  put  them  all  to  death. 

The  Bishop  was  led  through  the  forest  to 
a place  some  miles  distant  from  the  scene  of 

64 


Bishop  Hannington  a Prisoner  shortly  before  his  Martyrdom 

He  was  kept  in  a fair-sized  hut  with  about  twenty  men  around  him.  The  place 
was  very  dirty,  and  quite  dark  but  for  the  firelight. 


Martyrdom 

his  imprisonment,  and  there  he  found  his  men 
before  him,  stripped  naked  and  bound  with 
thongs.  His  own  clothing  was  then  roughly 
torn  off ; and  he  saw  that  the  end  was  near. 
Although  weak  with  fever  and  greatly  reduced 
by  his  trying  imprisonment,  his  courage  never 
failed  him  in  that  awful  hour.  He  gave  his 
murderers  that  message  to  their  king  to  which 
we  referred  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter  ; 
and  then  kneeling  down,  he  committed  his 
soul  to  God.  A moment  after  the  fierce  soldiers 
rushed  upon  their  victims  with  their  stabbing 
spears.  Two  of  them,  who  had  been  told  off 
for  the  purpose  and  were  stationed  one  on 
either  side  of  Hannington,  plunged  their 
weapons  into  his  heart,  while  all  around  him  the 
ground  was  covered  with  his  dead  and  dying 
men. 

The  diary  which  he  kept  during  his  imprison- 
ment is  exceedingly  touching,  especially  the 
entries  of  the  last  two  days.  It  was  on  a 
Thursday  that  he  died,  and  on  Wednesday  we 
find  him  writing  : “ A terrible  night,  first  with 
noisy  drunken  guard,  and  secondly  with  ver- 
min, which  have  found  out  my  tent  and  swarm. 

6s 


E 


Martyrdom 

I don’t  think  I got  one  sound  hour’s  sleep,  and 
woke  with  fever  fast  developing.  O Lord,  do 
have  mercy  upon  me  and  release  me.  I am 
quite  broken  down  and  brought  low.  Com- 
forted by  reading  Psalm  xxvn.”  The  last 
entry  of  all  is  very  brief.  It  must  have  been 
written  just  before  the  soldiers  came  to  lead 
him  out  to  die. 

“Oct.  29th,  Thursday  (Eighth  day’s  prison). 
— I can  hear  no  news,  but  was  held  up  by 
Psalm  xxx,  which  came  with  great  power.  A 
hyena  howled  near  me  last  night,  smelling  a 
sick  man,  but  I hope  it  is  not  to  have  me  yet.” 

Our  knowledge  of  the  final  scenes  comes 
partly  from  the  testimony  of  three  or  four  of 
Hannington’s  men,  whose  lives  were  spared 
on  condition  that  they  would  show  the  mur- 
derers how  to  open  his  boxes,  partly  from  the 
evidence  of  some  of  the  soldiers  themselves, 
who  subsequently  became  members  of  the 
Uganda  Church,  but  especially  from  one  of  his 
porters,  a young  coast  Christian,  who  was  with 
the  Bishop  to  the  very  last,  and  was  speared 
by  his  side  and  left  on  the  ground  for  dead. 
During  the  night  he  revived  and  crawled  for 

66 


Escape  of  a Porter 

miles  through  the  forest,  with  his  bowels  pro- 
truding from  a dreadful  wound,  till  he  reached 
the  tent  of  a native  who  was  a friend  of  Mac- 
kay’s,  and  by  whom  he  was  kindly  received  and 
tended  until  his  recovery. 

So  died  the  lion-hearted  Bishop  at  the  com- 
paratively early  age  of  thirty-eight.  But  “we 
live  in  deeds,  not  years  ” ; and  the  brave  sim- 
plicity of  his  character,  together  with  his  mar- 
tyr death,  will  keep  his  name  alive  as  one  of 
the  truest  of  the  many  missionary  heroes  of 
“ Darkest  Africa.” 

Authorities.— -James  Hannington  and  Lion-Hearted , both  by 
Rev.  E.  C.  Dawson,  m.a.  (London : Seeley  and  Co.) ; Through  Masai 
Land , by  Joseph  Thomson  (London  : Sampson  Low,  Marston,  Searle, 
and  Rivington). 


67 


PIONEERS  IN  NYASALAND 


CHAPTER  III 


PIONEERS  IN  NYASALAND 


Up  the  Zambesi  and  the  Shir4 — Lake  Nyasa — Dr.  Livingstone  and 
Livingstonia — The  first  pioneers — Gravestones  and  milestones — 
The  wild  Angoni — A raid  and  a rescue — A great  indaba — Arab 
slavers — The  Arab  war — African  Lakes  Corporation — Transfor- 
mation of  Central  Africa — A dream-city. 


HE  traveller  to  Nyasaland  who  has  been 


carried  swiftly  to  the  Far  South  and 
round  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  by  one  of  the 
great  steamers  of  the  Union  Castle  Line,  and 
has  next  sailed  up  the  East  African  coast  on  a 
German  liner,  may  find  after  arriving  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Zambesi  that  the  remaining  stages 
of  his  journey  take  nearly  as  long  as  the  ocean 
voyage  of  10,000  miles.  First  comes  a tedious 
struggle  up  the  Zambesi  in  a river  steamboat 
which  proceeds  only  by  day,  since  it  would  be 
impossible  to  pilot  her  through  the  snags  and 
shallows  at  night,  and  sometimes  sticks  on  a 
sandbank,  so  that,  crocodiles  notwithstanding, 


71 


Lake  Nyasa 

the  black  crew  has  to  tumble  into  the  water  and 
try  to  drag  her  off.  By  and  by,  after  entering 
the  Shir6,  that  great  northern  tributary  of  the 
Zambesi  which  flows  out  of  Lake  Nyasa  itself, 
the  steamboat  is  exchanged  for  a barge  pro- 
pelled by  poles.  The  barge  is  provided  with  a 
tiny  deck-house  in  which  the  traveller  is  sup- 
posed to  spend  his  nights,  but  if  he  is  wise  he 
will  climb  with  his  pillow  on  to  the  house  roof, 
where  as  he  lies  he  can  catch  the  night  breeze 
and  listen  drowsily  before  falling  asleep  to  the 
lullabies  of  innumerable  frogs,  and  see  the  fire- 
flies flitting  through  the  reeds  on  the  river  bank 
and  the  Southern  Cross  gleaming  before  him 
like  the  chief  jewel  of  a diadem  on  “ the  fore- 
head of  the  sky.”  When  the  Shir6  Highlands 
are  reached  and  the  rapids  begin,  he  must 
betake  himself  to  terra  firma  for  an  overland 
journey  of  a few  days  via  Blantyre,  the  Central 
African  namesake  of  Dr.  Livingstone’s  Scottish 
birthplace,  for  this  whole  region  of  the  Zambesi, 
the  Shir£,  and  Lake  Nyasa  with  its  western 
hinterland,  is  consecrated  more  than  any  other 
part  of  the  Dark  Continent  to  the  memory  of 
the  greatest  of  missionary  explorers.  Having 


72 


Dr.  Livingstone 

rounded  the  rapids,  partly  by  the  help  of  a 
brand-new  railway  line  and  partly  in  a machila, 
or  hammock  slung  on  a bamboo  pole  and 
carried  by  relays  of  sturdy  natives,  our  traveller 
arrives  at  the  Upper  Shird,  where  the  river  is 
navigable  once  more,  and  soon  is  again  steam- 
ing onwards.  At  last  comes  a red-letter  day  in 
his  experience  when  he  reaches  Fort  Johnston, 
where  his  vessel  glides  out  from  between  the 
river  banks  into  the  broad  blue  expanse  of  Lake 
Nyasa,  stretching  northwards  for  350  miles. 

It  is  a slow  and  sometimes  painful  progress, 
this  journey  to  Nyasaland  from  the  coast ; and 
yet  how  swift  and  easy  and  luxurious  compared 
with  what  it  was  little  more  than  a generation 
ago  when  Dr.  Livingstone  died  ! But  even 
more  striking  than  the  changes  brought  about 
in  Central  Africa  by  the  introduction  of  steam 
and  the  making  of  roads  is  the  transformation 
wrought  by  the  coming  of  a Christian  civiliza- 
tion. When  Livingstone  explored  the  Zambesi 
and  discovered  the  Shire  River  and  the  magnifi- 
cent lake  by  which  it  is  fed,  Arab  slave-raiders 
were  devastating  the  whole  country  by  their 
abominable  traffic  with  its  accompaniment  of 


73 


Dr.  Livingstone 

outrage  and  massacre.  Wherever  he  went  he 
saw  skeletons  scattered  about  the  bush,  villages 
left  without  a single  inhabitant,  corpses  floating 
down  the  streams  in  such  numbers  that  he  could 
not  keep  count  of  them — showing  that  the  very 
crocodiles  were  gorged  to  satiety  with  human 
flesh.  To  this  great-hearted  man  it  seemed 
that  his  brothers’  blood  was  crying  to  heaven 
out  of  the  ground,  and  he  made  a passionate 
appeal  to  the  Christian  people  of  Britain  to  heal 
what  he  described  as  “the  open  sore  of  the 
world.”  Not  till  after  his  lonely  death  in  the 
heart  of  Africa  and  his  burial  in  Westminster 
Abbey  did  his  words  have  their  full  effect.  But 
the  voice  of  the  dead  hero  touched  his  country- 
men as  the  voice  of  the  living  one  had  never 
done.  Especially  was  this  the  case  in  Scotland, 
which  claimed  Livingstone  as  her  very  own. 
The  Established  Church  of  Scotland  entered 
upon  its  noble  work  at  Blantyre  in  the  Shire 
Highlands,  while  the  Free  Church  (now  the 
United  Free  Church)  founded  on  the  shores 
of  Lake  Nyasa  that  remarkable  Livingstonia 
Mission  of  which  the  present  chapter  is  to  tell. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  July,  1875,  that 


74 


The  Native  Method  of  Carrying  Whites  in  Livingstonia 


The  First  Pioneers 

Lieutenant  Young,  r.n.,  and  a party  which  in- 
cluded the  Rev.  Dr.  Laws  (a  qualified  medical 
man),  who  may  be  described  as  the  veteran  and 
hero  of  Nyasaland,  together  wTith  a carpenter,  a 
blacksmith,  an  engineer,  an  agriculturist,  and 
a seaman,  found  themselves  dumped  down  at 
the  Zambesi  mouth  after  a dangerous  voyage 
from  the  Cape  in  a small  German  schooner 
called  the  Hara . As  part  of  their  equipment 
they  had  brought  with  them  a little  steamer,  the 
Ilala , built  in  sections,  and  as  soon  as  they  had 
succeeded  in  fitting  it  together,  they  started  on 
their  journey  upstream.  A toilsome  journey  it 
proved,  for  the  Ilala  had  been  built  for  service 
on  the  lake  rather  than  the  rivers,  and  was  con- 
stantly going  aground  and  requiring  to  be 
emptied  of  its  cargo,  and  then  hauled  off  into 
deeper  water.  When  the  Murchison  Cataracts 
were  reached,  where  for  sixty  miles  the  Shire 
rushes  swiftly  down  from  its  upper  reaches 
towards  the  lower  levels  of  the  Zambesi  by 
a succession  of  falls  and  rapids,  their  little 
transport  had  to  be  taken  to  pieces  again,  and 
dragged  with  terrible  toil  over  the  long  portage 
to  the  Upper  Shire,  where  once  again  it  was 


75 


The  First  Pioneers 

rebuilt  and  relaunched.  By  that  time,  however, 
the  journey’s  end  was  well  in  sight.  Three  or 
four  days  of  quiet  steaming  brought  them  safely 
at  last  to  the  lake  of  their  hopes  and  dreams. 
Of  the  little  Ilala  it  might  be  said  not  only  that 
she  was 

The  first  that  ever  burst 
Into  that  silent  sea, 

but  that  she  was  the  first  steam  vessel  to  float 
on  any  of  the  great  lakes  of  Central  Africa,  the 
forerunner  of  the  numerous  steamers  that  ply 
up  and  down  the  waters  of  Lake  Nyasa,  Lake 
Tanganyika,  Victoria  Nyanza,  and  the  other 
inland  seas  of  the  continent. 

The  first  settlement  of  these  pioneers  was  at 
Cape  Maclear,  a beautiful  promontory  at  the 
south  end  of  the  lake,  where  before  long  the 
leadership  of  the  enterprise  fell  upon  Dr. 
Laws,  Lieutenant  Young  being  recalled  by 
the  Admiralty  to  his  naval  duties,  from  which 
he  had  only  obtained  temporary  leave  of 
absence.  From  life  in  Central  Africa  an 
element  of  danger  is  never  quite  wanting. 
Those  who  have  moved  through  the  forests  and 
along  the  streams  can  tell  many  a tale  of 

76 


The  First  Pioneers 

adventures  with  lions  and  leopards,  with  croco- 
diles and  hippopotami — crocs  and  hippos  as 
they  are  familiarly  called.  Sometimes  a boat 
is  upset  by  a hippo  or  a boatman  carried  off  by 
a croc.  Once  when  Dr.  Laws  and  Dr.  Elmslie 
were  camping  in  the  open,  they  were  wakened 
through  the  night  by  a lion  tearing  their  tent 
down.  And  a lady  missionary  of  our  acquaint- 
ance can  tell  of  a leopard  which  took  possession 
of  her  verandah  one  night,  attacked  her  bed- 
room door  with  its  claws,  and  finally  leapt  on 
to  the  roof  of  the  cottage  and  began  to  tear  off 
the  thatch,  which  was  its  only  covering. 

But  in  those  early  days  there  were  other  and 
special  dangers.  Around  the  settlers  there 
were  fierce  savages  who  often  showed  them- 
selves unfriendly,  while  Arab  slave -hunters 
hated  them  with  a heartiness  due  not  only  to 
the  invariable  antipathy  of  the  Crescent  to  the 
Cross,  but  to  a premonition  that  the  coming  of 
this  little  band  of  Christian  men  presaged  the 
downfall  of  their  profitable  traffic.  Above  all 
fever  raged  continually  at  Cape  Maclear,  and 
death  was  busy.  “A  queer  country  this,”  a 
visitor  to  Africa  once  said  to  Dr.  Laws,  “where 


77 


The  Wild  Angoni 

the  only  things  of  interest  you  have  to  show  me 
are  the  graves.”  “Yes,”  replied  the  doctor, 
“but  they  are  the  milestones  of  Christianity  to 
the  regions  beyond.”  Milestones  of  this  kind 
were  frequent  at  first,  and  by  and  by  it  became 
evident  that  Cape  Maclear  was  little  better  than 
a “white  man’s  grave.”  In  order,  therefore, 
to  secure  a healthier  site,  as  well  as  one  which 
would  be  more  central  for  the  command  of  the 
whole  lake,  the  headquarters  of  the  settlement 
were  transferred  to  Bandawe,  nearly  midway 
up  the  western  shore. 

The  wisdom  of  this  change  was  soon  abund- 
antly proved.  Bandawe  was  not  only  much 
healthier,  but  lay  in  the  heart  of  a populous 
district,  with  ready  access  to  several  large  and 
influential  tribes.  The  work  of  the  Mission 
began  to  extend  with  wonderful  rapidity  along 
the  lake  coast  and  far  into  the  interior.  But 
success  itself  brought  fresh  dangers  and  trials. 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  lay  in  the 
perpetual  onslaughts  made  upon  the  more 
peaceful  people  of  the  lake  shore  by  the  fierce 
Angoni  warriors  of  the  west.  These  Angoni 
were  descended  from  a branch  of  the  great 

78 


The  Wild  Angoni 

Zulu  family,  and  were  possessed  of  all  the 
characteristics  of  that  brave  but  cruel  race. 
Their  fathers  had  crossed  the  Zambesi  from 
the  south,  and  carried  death  and  terror  all 
over  Nyasaland  and  right  on  to  Tanganyika. 
Their  chief  settlements  were  on  the  uplands  to 
the  west  of  Bandawe,  and  none  suffered  more 
from  their  periodical  and  merciless  raids  than 
the  tribes  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Mission. 
For  fear  of  the  Angoni  these  poor  people,  who 
lived  largely  by  fishing,  were  compelled  to 
huddle  themselves  by  the  thousand  within 
stockades,  or  to  build  their  houses  on  piles  in 
deep  water  (recalling  the  “crannogs”  of  our 
Celtic  ancestors),  or  on  rocky  islets  scattered 
about  over  the  surface  of  the  lake.  When  the 
white  men  came  to  Bandawe  great  numbers  of 
the  natives  settled  in  the  immediate  vicinity, 
hoping  to  be  safe  under  their  protection.  A 
great  protection  the  missionaries  undoubtedly 
were,  and  yet  the  history  of  Livingstonia  in 
those  days  was  constantly  overcast  by  the 
shadow  of  brutal  and  pitiless  massacre.  Every 
now  and  then  a band  of  the  Angoni  would 
make  a rush  by  night  upon  a defenceless 


79 


The  Wild  Angoni 

village,  stabbing  the  inhabitants  with  their 
cruel,  broad-bladed  spears  ; and  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  word  came  to  Dr.  Laws  and  he  set 
out  to  do  all  that  could  be  done  by  medical 
skill  and  Christian  pity,  he  would  find  scores  of 
unfortunate  victims  lying  on  the  ground  welter- 
ing in  their  own  blood.  “The  Bandaw6  Mis- 
sion journal,”  says  Mr.  Jack,  the  historian  of 
Livingstonia,  “reads  in  some  places  like  the 
history  of  a bloody  campaign,  owing  to  the 
frequent  attacks  of  these  mountain  warriors.” 
Expostulations  with  these  people  in  their 
heathen  state  was  useless,  for  murder  for  its 
own  sake  was  part  of  their  very  life  and  creed. 
It  soon  became  evident  that  the  only  way  of 
turning  them  from  their  paths  of  blood  was  to 
turn  them  into  Christians.  A young  converted 
Kaffir  called  William  Koyi,  who  knew  the 
Zulu  language,  was  settled  amongst  them  in 
the  first  place,  and  did  his  best  to  teach  them 
a higher  way  of  life.  He  was  of  course  in 
constant  peril,  and  day  by  day  there  went  on 
all  around  him  things  which  were  enough  to 
break  even  an  Africans  heart,  and  which  by 
and  by  sent  him  prematurely  to  his  grave. 

80 


A Raid  and  a Rescue 

“A  woman  carrying  a pot  of  beer  would  be 
killed  in  broad  daylight  in  order  to  get  the 
beer  and  prevent  detection.  A scream  would 
be  heard  in  the  evening,  and  on  inquiring  the 
cause  he  would  be  told  that  it  was  a worn-out 
slave  who  had  been  put  out  for  the  hyenas  to 
devour,  as  being  no  longer  able  to  take  care  of 
himself.  Skeletons  of  persons  murdered  were 
to  be  seen  lying  about  many  villages  and  in  the 
bush.” 

Still  Koyi’s  life  and  words  were  not  without 
their  impression,  and  when  Dr.  Laws  secured 
from  Scotland  in  Dr.  Elmslie  a medical  mis- 
sionary for  the  Angoni  themselves,  a striking 
work  of  reformation  began  amongthese  savages. 
Not  all  at  once,  however,  for  there  were  sections 
of  the  tribe  which  were  unwilling  to  give  up 
their  former  practices,  and  several  years  after 
Dr.  Elmslie’s  arrival  there  took  place  in  a 
village  beside  the  lake  one  of  the  worst  raids 
in  the  whole  experience  of  the  Mission.  A 
band  of  Angoni  crept  down  through  the  night 
upon  the  hapless  people.  At  the  door  of  every 
hut  a full-armed  warrior  took  his  stand  and 
ordered  the  inmates  to  come  out.  As  they 

F 8l 


A Raid  and  a Rescue 

appeared,  the  men  and  boys  were  immediately 
dispatched  with  spears,  while  the  girls  and 
women  were  seized  and  bound  with  bark  ropes. 
In  the  morning  no  male  was  left  in  the  place, 
and  more  than  300  captive  women  sat  trembling 
on  the  ground,  the  Angoni  meantime  feasting 
themselves  on  the  food  and  beer  of  their  vic- 
tims. 

But  even  here  this  tale  of  bloodshed  does 
not  end.  During  the  night  a fugitive  had  suc- 
ceeded in  carrying  word  of  these  events  to  a 
station  about  twelve  miles  off,  where  there  were 
two  white  men,  agents  of  the  African  Lakes 
Company.  These  brave  fellows  resolved  to 
make  an  attempt  to  rescue  the  women.  Seizing 
their  guns  and  gathering  a force  of  about  100 
natives,  they  made  a rapid  march  upon  the 
village.  But  no  sooner  did  the  Angoni  see  them 
advancing  than  they  determined  to  slaughter 
their  captives  wholesale  rather  than  allow  them 
to  escape.  And  so  before  the  very  eyes  of  the 
rescue-party  there  began  a horrible  scene — 
women  screaming  for  mercy,  women  wrestling 
for  dear  life  with  armed  savages,  women  and 
girls  writhing  in  their  death  agonies  on  the 

82 


A Great  “Indaba” 


ground.  A sharp  fight  followed  between  the 
Angoni  and  the  traders,  but  after  the  former 
were  driven  off,  a missionary  in  the  locality 
who  had  hurried  to  the  spot  found  that  while 
about  200  of  the  women  and  girls  had  been 
saved,  132  of  them  were  speared  to  death,  and 
all  around  the  bush  was  full  of  dead  and 
wounded  men  and  boys. 

It  is  one  of  the  triumphs  of  the  Livingstonia 
Mission  that  this  whole  Angoni  people,  who 
once  lived  solely  for  war,  are  now  peaceful 
subjects  of  King  Edward.  On  September  2nd, 
1904,  they  placed  themselves  by  their  own  free 
act  under  the  administration  of  the  British 
Government.  Sir  Alfred  Sharpe,  H.M.  Com- 
missioner for  British  Central  Africa,  accom- 
panied by  Lady  Sharpe  as  well  as  by  several 
of  the  Livingstonia  missionaries,  met  the  An- 
goni nation  in  a great  indaba , and  arranged  to 
their  complete  satisfaction  the  terms  on  which 
Angoniland  was  taken  over  by  Great  Britain. 
One  of  the  conditions  was  that  the  police  force 
should  be  entirely  drawn  from  the  Angoni  them- 
selves ; another  that  Yakobe,  a nephew  of  one 
of  their  own  chiefs  and  a man  who  received 

83 


A Great  “Indaba” 


his  education  at  the  Livingstonia  Institution, 
should  be  appointed  the  head  of  this  native 
police.  The  change  wrought  by  years  of  Chris- 
tian teaching  is  significantly  shown  by  the  fact 
that  throughout  the  whole  indaba  the  Com- 
missioner was  unattended  by  a single  armed 
soldier,  and  that,  armed  himself  with  nothing 
but  paper  and  pencil,  and  with  his  wife  by  his 
side,  he  sat  all  day  in  the  midst  of  thousands 
of  Angoni  warriors  in  all  their  panoply  of  shields 
and  spears. 

The  following  month  there  appeared  in  the 
Aurora , a journal  which  is  published  in  Living- 
stonia in  the  English  language,  and  is  entirely 
set  up  and  printed  by  natives,  a graphic  account 
of  the  day’s  proceedings  from  the  pen  of  one 
of  the  missionaries  who  was  present.  With 
much  justice  he  remarks  that  the  scene  in- 
evitably suggested  other  and  very  different 
chapters  in  the  history  of  the  expansion  of  the 
British  Empire.  “Peace  hath  her  victories  no 
less  renown ’d  than  war,”  and  in  this  case  the 
teaching  and  influence  of  a little  band  of  Chris- 
tian men  and  women  have  gained  a province 
for  the  British  Crown  without  the  firing  of  a 

84 


The  Arab  War 

single  shot  or  the  shedding  of  a drop  of  human 
blood. 

But  even  more  distressing  at  one  time  than 
the  raids  of  the  Angoni  were  the  ravages  of 
the  Arab  slave-traders  throughout  Nyasaland. 
And  hereby  hangs  another  chapter  in  the 
romantic  tale  of  Livingstonia.  Over  the  An- 
goni the  white  men  always  had  some  influence, 
but  over  the  Arabs  they  had  none.  It  was 
contrary  to  their  principles  to  take  up  arms 
against  them,  and  so  they  had  to  look  on  while 
outrage  and  murder  were  perpetrated,  all  that 
they  could  do  being  to  make  their  stations 
sanctuaries  where  at  least  the  escaped  captives 
would  be  safe  and  free.  Even  this  right,  how- 
ever, was  challenged  by  the  Arabs,  who  by  and 
by  in  certain  districts  of  the  country  declared 
open  war  upon  the  white  men,  including  along 
with  the  missionaries  the  agents  of  the  African 
Lakes  Company,  which,  as  will  presently  be 
explained,  stood,  and  still  stands,  to  the  Mission 
in  a very  close  relation  of  sympathy  and  co- 
operation. Out  of  a multitude  of  episodes  in 
this  Arab  war  one  may  be  selected  which  in  its 
thrilling  character,  as  Mr.  Jack  very  fitly  says, 

85 


The  Arab  War 

recalls  the  defence  of  the  Residency  at  Luck- 
now during  the  heroic  days  of  the  Indian 
Mutiny. 

Mlozi,  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  Arab  traders, 
proclaimed  himself  Sultan  of  a large  district 
near  the  head  of  the  lake,  and  intimated  to  the 
whole  Konde  tribe  that  they  must  consider 
themselves  his  slaves.  To  escape  from  his 
tyranny  many  of  the  people  flocked  to  Karonga, 
where  the  African  Lakes  Company  had  a 
station  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  L.  M.  Fother- 
ingham  ; whereupon  Mlozi  besieged  the  station 
with  a force  of  five  hundred  men  armed  with 
rifles.  Fortifying  his  post  as  well  as  he  could, 
Mr.  Fotheringham  sent  word  to  Mr.  Bain,  the 
nearest  missionary,  asking  for  his  help.  By 
a forced  march  of  twenty  hours  Mr.  Bain 
succeeded  in  reaching  Karonga  and  making 
his  way  into  the  station.  Shortly  after  there 
arrived  most  opportunely  from  the  other  side  of 
the  lake  four  additional  white  men,  including 
Dr.  Tomory,  of  the  London  Missionary  Society, 
and  Mr.  Alfred  (now  Sir  Alfred)  Sharpe,  who 
has  since  risen  to  the  distinguished  position  of 
H.M.  Commissioner  for  British  Central  Africa. 


86 


The  Arab  War 

For  five  days  and  nights  the  Arabs  poured  in 
an  incessant  fire  upon  this  little  band  of  six 
Europeans  assisted  by  about  fifty  armed  natives. 
The  defence  was  conducted  with  much  skill 
and  courage.  Deep  pits  were  dug  in  the  sands 
for  the  women  and  children,  while  behind 
barriers  of  boxes  and  bales  the  fighting  men 
kept  the  Arabs  at  bay.  The  escape  of  the 
party  with  their  lives  was  almost  miraculous, 
for  often  on  waking  from  a brief  nap  snatched 
in  the  trenches,  they  would  find  their  pockets 
full  of  sand  kicked  up  by  the  bullets  which  had 
been  sputtering  all  around  them  while  they 
slept.  It  would  have  gone  hard  with  them, 
however,  if  one  of  their  number  had  not  man- 
aged to  make  his  way  through  the  ring  of 
besiegers,  and  to  secure  the  help  of  a neigh- 
bouring and  friendly  tribe.  He  got  back  just 
in  the  nick  of  time  with  five  thousand  of  the 
Wamwanga  behind  him,  and  thus  reinforced 
the  defenders  soon  drove  off  the  Arabs  in  con- 
fusion. For  two  years  this  state  of  war 
continued  in  Nyasaland,  till  at  length  the 
British  Government  felt  itself  obliged  to  inter- 
fere in  the  interests  of  humanity  as  well  as  of 

87 


African  Lakes  Corporation 

its  own  subjects.  In  1892  a Protectorate  was 
proclaimed,  and  on  the  hoisting  of  the  British 
flag  the  slave-hunters  speedily  disappeared,  and 
the  people  of  Nyasaland  had  rest. 

Reference  has  been  made  more  than  once  to 
the  African  Lakes  Company,  and  its  relation 
to  the  Livingstonia  Mission  should  now  be 
explained.  From  the  very  first,  Dr.  Laws  and 
his  fellow-workers  had  done  what  they  could  to 
promote  industry  and  commerce  among  the 
natives.  It  was  a step  forward  when  the  Doctor 
introduced  money  into  the  country,  and  taught 
the  people  the  immense  advantage  of  a cur- 
rency. At  first  they  were  rather  slow  to  appre- 
ciate the  benefit,  but  before  long  they  became 
so  fully  alive  to  the  superiority  of  coin  over 
calico  as  a medium  of  exchange  that  some  of 
the  more  cunning  ones  would  hand  in  a button 
and  say  with  an  air  of  innocence,  “Will  you 
please  exchange  my  money  ? ” 

But  however  convinced  the  missionaries 
might  be  of  the  truth  of  Dr.  Livingstone's 
saying,  that  to  teach  the  Africans  to  cultivate 
for  our  markets  was,  next  to  the  Gospel,  the 
most  effectual  means  of  their  elevation,  it  was 


88 


I f*t 


Inside  a Masai  Kraal 


Masai  Woman  Erecting  a Kraal 

Shows  the  outside  of  the  kraal 


African  Lakes  Corporation 

of  course  impossible  for  them  to  become 
traders  ; they  had  other  and  more  important 
work  to  do.  Accordingly  some  of  the  same 
philanthropic  Christian  men  in  Scotland  who 
had  been  most  active  in  founding  the  Living- 
stonia  Mission  now  conceived  the  idea  of 
forming  a company  which,  while  established 
on  sound  business  lines,  should  have  as  one  of 
its  principal  objects  the  promotion  of  the  cause 
of  Christian  civilization  in  East  Central  Africa. 
The  leader  in  this  enterprise  was  Mr.  James 
Stevenson,  of  Glasgow,  who  will  always  be 
remembered  in  the  region  of  the  great  lakes  by 
his  special  and  splendid  gift  of  the  road  which 
is  called  after  him  the  Stevenson  Road.  It  is 
a ten-foot  road,  involving  some  difficult  feats  of 
engineering,  which  runs  all  the  way  from  the 
north  end  of  Lake  Nyasa  to  the  south  end  of 
Lake  Tanganyika,  a distance  of  more  than  two 
hundred  miles. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  estimate  the  bless- 
ings both  positive  and  negative  which  the 
African  Lakes  Corporation,  as  it  is  now  called, 
has  conferred  upon  the  whole  of  the  vast  region 
which  lies  between  Lake  Tanganyika  and  the 

89 


T ransformation 

mouths  of  the  Zambesi.  It  has  revolutionized 
the  means  of  transit  by  its  steamers  on  the 
rivers  and  lakes  and  by  its  opening  of  roads,  it 
has  awakened  and  stimulated  the  spirit  of  in- 
dustry in  the  natives,  and  has  both  created  new 
and  higher  tastes  and  made  plentiful  provision 
for  the  growing  demands.  Negatively  it  has 
been  a blessing  by  rigidly  keeping  out  gun- 
powder and  strong  drink,  and  by  destroying 
any  hankering  on  the  part  of  the  chiefs  after 
the  old  traffic  in  slaves,  through  its  readiness  to 
pay  better  prices  than  the  Arabs  ever  gave,  and 
also  to  supply  European  goods  more  cheaply. 
The  chiefs  know  now  that  it  is  “highly  unprofit- 
able to  sell  a man,  when  they  can  get  quite  as 
much  for  a canoe  load  of  potatoes.” 

The  operations  of  the  Livingstonia  Mission 
now  cover  an  area  of  thousands  of  square  miles 
— along  the  Lake  shore,  up  the  Stevenson 
Road,  and  far  out  to  the  west.  Of  its  various 
stations  and  agencies — evangelistic,  medical, 
educational,  and  industrial — it  is  impossible  to 
speak  in  detail.  But  the  heart  and  soul  of  all 
is  the  “ Institution,”  now  called  the  Overtoun 
Institution,  in  honour  of  Lord  Overtoun,  to 


90 


T ransformation 

whose  munificent  generosity  it  has  all  along 
been  deeply  indebted.  Standing  on  a lofty  and 
healthy  plateau,  a few  hours’  climb  above  the 
lake  and  about  a hundred  miles  north  of  Ban- 
da we,  it  is  a veritable  hive  of  varied  industry. 
Into  its  schools  pupils  are  gathered  from  all 
parts  of  the  country  and  from  different  tribes 
speaking  quite  distinct  languages.  Here  young 
men  are  trained  as  evangelists  or  as  dispensary 
and  hospital  assistants,  while  others  are  taught 
bookkeeping  and  fitted  to  become  clerks  in  the 
service  of  the  Government  or  of  the  Lakes 
Company.  Carpentry,  bricklaying,  engineer- 
ing, printing,  and  other  useful  trades  are 
imparted  by  skilled  artisans  from  Scotland. 
Here,  too,  under  a scientific  agriculturist,  there 
is  carried  on  a work  of  gardening,  farming,  and 
arboriculture,  for  which  the  British  Govern- 
ment has  made  a free  grant  to  the  Mission  of 
one  hundred  square  miles  of  land.  The  beautiful 
Manchewe  Falls  have  been  bridled,  so  as  to 
supply  the  plateau  with  electric  light  as  well 
as  with  motor  power  to  drive  machinery.  A 
splendid  zigzag  road  has  been  cut  from  the  lake 
right  up  the  precipitous  shoulders  of  Mount 


91 


A Dream-City 

Waller,  on  the  summit  of  which  the  Institution 
stands.  The  Institution  is  provided  with  the 
telegraph  and  telephone,  it  rejoices  in  a literary 
and  debating  society,  a periodical  of  its  own, 
and  many  another  fruit  of  civilization.  All  this 
besides  the  work  which  day  by  day  lies  nearest 
to  its  heart — the  work  of  Christian  evangeliza- 
tion, by  means  of  which  so  many  thousands 
of  persons,  young  and  old,  have  been  brought 
into  the  faith  and  fellowship  of  the  Christian 
Church. 

In  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Free  Church 
of  Scotland  in  1874,  before  Livingstonia  had 
begun  to  be,  the  late  Dr.  Stewart  of  Lovedale 
made  a speech  proposing  that  such  a Mission 
should  be  founded,  in  which  he  drew  a picture 
of  a beautiful  dream-city  of  the  future  that  had 
risen  up  before  his  mind.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  the  foundation  stones  of  this  city 
of  dream  and  hope  have  already  been  laid  : — 

“What  I would  now  humbly  suggest  as  the 
truest  memorial  of  Livingstone  is — the  estab- 
lishment by  this  Church,  or  several  Churches 
together,  of  an  institution  at  once  industrial 
and  educational,  to  teach  the  truths  of  the 


92 


A Dream-City 

Gospel  and  the  arts  of  civilized  life  to  the 
natives  of  the  country ; and  which  shall  be 
placed  on  a carefully  selected  and  commanding 
spot  in  Central  Africa,  where,  from  its  position 
and  capabilities,  it  might  grow  into  a town, 
and  afterwards  into  a city,  and  become  a great 
centre  of  commerce,  civilization,  and  Christi- 
anity. And  this  I would  call  Livingstonia.  ” 


For  the  most  part  the  narrative  is  based  upon  Mr.  Jack’s  Daybreak 
in  Livingstonia  (Oliphant,  Anderson,  and  Ferrier),  with  an  Introduc- 
tion by  Dr.  Laws,  in  which  the  history  of  the  Livingstonia  Mission  is 
carried  up  to  1900.  Use  has  also  been  made  of  Dr.  Livingstone’s 
Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  the  Zambesi  and  its  Tributaries , Dr. 
Elmslie’s  Among  the  Wild  Ngoni , and  the  pages  of  the  Aurora. 


93 


VORTREKKERS  IN  BAROTSELAND 


CHAPTER  IV 


VORTREKKERS  IN  BAROTSELAND 


The  three  horsemen  of  the  Great  Kei  River — Francis  Coillard — 
Trekking  northwards — In  the  clutches  of  Lobengula — In  Khama’s 
country — The  Makari-kari  Desert — The  Upper  Zambesi — King 
Lewanika  of  Barotseland — A canoe  voyage — Adventure  with  the 
Balubale — The  coming  of  the  Iron  Horse. 


N an  autumn  day  in  the  year  1875  three 


horsemen  rode  out  of  King  William’s 
Town  in  the  Cape  Colony,  and  turned  their 
faces  to  the  north  for  the  long  journey  to 
Basutoland,  a distance  of  300  miles,  which  lay 
before  them.  As  they  rode  on  side  by  side, 
they  talked  earnestly  about  a movement,  in 
which  they  were  all  deeply  interested,  for 
extending  the  influence  of  the  French  Pro- 
testant Mission  in  Basutoland  into  the  vast 
region  to  the  north  between  the  Limpopo  and 
Zambesi  rivers — virgin  soil  in  those  days  so 
far  as  Christian  teaching  was  concerned.  Of 
the  three  one  was  a soldier,  Major  Malan  by 
name.  He  was  a Swiss  by  birth,  wTho  had 

G 97 


Trekking  Northwards 

become  an  officer  in  the  British  army,  but  had 
resigned  his  commission  in  order  to  devote 
himself  to  Christian  work  among  the  native 
races  of  Africa.  The  other  two,  M.  Coillard 
and  M.  Mabille,  were  Frenchmen,  agents  of 
the  celebrated  Basutoland  Mission  carried  on 
by  Protestants  from  France.  These  two  had 
already  done  their  part  in  building  up  a strong 
native  Church  among  the  valleys  of  that  i ‘ Swit- 
zerland of  South  Africa,”  and  now  they  were 
lifting  up  their  eyes  to  wider  horizons  and 
thinking  of  the  needs  of  the  tribes  to  the  far 
north. 

When  the  trio  reached  the  Great  Kei  River 
they  plunged  in  and  made  the  crossing.  As 
they  landed  on  the  northern  bank  a common 
impulse  seized  them,  and  springing  from  their 
horses  they  knelt  down  under  the  shadow  of  a 
bush  and  devoted  themselves  before  God  to 
the  new  enterprise  on  which  they  had  set  their 
hearts.  Then  when  they  had  remounted,  Major 
Malan,  as  if  he  had  been  leading  a cavalry 
charge,  waved  his  hat,  spurred  his  horse,  and 
galloped  up  the  hill  with  his  two  friends  fast  at 
his  heels,  shouting  in  his  enthusiasm,  “ Three 

98 


Trekking  Northwards 

soldiers  ready  to  conquer  xAfrica.”  These  men 
meant  what  they  said.  That  incident  marked 
the  origin  of  the  Barotse  Mission.  And  it  is  of 
one  of  the  three,  M.  Coillard,  and  how  he 
fulfilled  the  vow  he  took  beneath  that  bush  by 
the  Kei  River,  that  this  chapter  is  to  tell. 

When  the  honour  of  leading  an  expedition 
to  the  north  of  the  Limpopo  was  entrusted  to 
M.  Coillard  by  the  Church  of  Basutoland,  he 
was  no  tyro  in  the  work  of  the  pioneer.  In 
fact  he  had  been  pioneering  already  for  twenty 
years.  For  most  of  that  time  he  and  his  wife, 
a brave  Scotchwoman,  had  been  content  to  live 
in  a waggon,  after  the  fashion  of  the  South 
African  “ vortrekker,  ” or  at  best  in  a poor  hut. 
He  had  lately  built  himself  a comfortable  house 
and  planted  a garden  round  it ; but  of  the  fruit 
of  that  garden  Madame  Coillard  and  he  were 
never  to  eat.  The  rest  of  their  lives  was  to  be 
spent  in  seeking  to  do  for  the  tribes  of  the  Zam- 
besi what  they  had  already  done  for  the  Basuto 
people. 

Starting  from  Basutoland  with  four  native 
catechists  as  well  as  with  his  wife  and  niece, 
a girl  of  eighteen,  M.  Coillard  trekked  with 


99 


In  the  Clutches  of  Lobengula 

his  ox  caravan  right  through  the  territories  of 
the  Transvaal  Republic,  crossed  the  Limpopo, 
and  plunged  into  a trackless  wilderness  where, 
like  sailors  on  the  ocean,  they  had  nothing  to 
guide  them  but  their  compass  and  the  stars. 
Their  first  rude  experience  was  at  the  hands  of 
Masonda,  a cowardly  and  treacherous  Mashona 
chief.  He  received  them  with  great  protesta- 
tions of  friendship,  but  the  very  next  day  tried 
to  decoy  them  to  the  edge  of  a frightful  preci- 
pice, with  the  view  of  hurling  them  down.  Being 
frustrated  in  his  murderous  plan,  he  sought 
some  compensation  in  robbing  them  of  seven- 
teen of  their  oxen  before  he  would  allow  them 
to  leave  his  country. 

They  had  not  long  escaped  from  the  clutches 
of  this  rascal  when  they  fell  into  the  hands  of 
a savage  still  more  dangerous  because  much 
more  powerful — the  redoubtable  Lobengula, 
king  of  the  Matabele.  A band  of  Lobengula’s 
men  seized  them  and  dragged  them  off  to  Bula- 
wayo, at  that  time  the  capital  of  the  Matabele, 
on  the  charge  of  having  entered  the  king’s 
territory  without  his  permission.  For  three 
weeks  they  were  hurried  by  forced  marches 


oo 


In  Khama’s  Country 

across  a very  rough  country,  while  every  com- 
fort was  denied  them.  Even  to  wash  in  a way- 
side  stream  was  a crime,  respect  for  this  black 
monarch  requiring  them  to  appear  in  hispresence 
with  all  the  dirt  and  sweat  of  the  three  weeks 
upon  them  as  a proof  that  they  had  obeyed  his 
summons  with  the  utmost  alacrity.  When  they 
came  in  sight  of  Bulawayo  they  were  met  by 
a witch  doctor,  who  performed  a ceremony  of 
exorcism.  Dipping  a gnu’s  tail  in  a slimy  green 
mixture,  he  applied  this  spiritual  disinfectant 
liberally  to  every  member  of  the  company, 
back  and  front.  For  M.  Coillard,  as  a rival 
sorcerer,  he  reserved  a double  dose  of  his 
medicine,  dashing  the  liquid  into  his  face  and 
all  over  his  clothes. 

For  nearly  four  months  Lobengula  kept  the 
Coillards  prisoners,  but  finally  he  contented 
himself  with  expelling  them  from  his  country, 
and  forbidding  them  ever  to  return  to  Matabele- 
land.  There  seemed  no  alternative  now  but 
to  retreat,  and  so  with  heavy  hearts  the  little 
caravan  made  their  way  for  hundreds  of  miles 
to  the  south-west  till  they  reached  Khama’s 
country,  where  that  well-known  Christian  chief, 


IOl 


In  Khama’s  Country 

then  quite  a young  man,  received  them  with 
the  utmost  kindness.  He  warmly  approved  of 
their  purpose  to  push  northwards,  and  did  all 
in  his  power  to  further  their  plans.  And  as 
a good  deal  of  communication  went  on  between 
his  own  country  and  that  of  Lewanika,  king  of 
the  Barotse  on  the  Upper  Zambesi,  he  sent  a 
body  of  envoys  along  with  M.  Coillard  all  the 
way  to  Barotseland,  to  urge  upon  Lewanika 
the  advisability  of  welcoming  the  white  teachers. 
It  was  largely  through  Khama’s  influence  that 
the  way  was  thus  finally  opened  up  for  an  ad- 
vance to  the  very  threshold  of  Central  Africa. 

Having  returned  to  the  south  and  also  made 
a voyage  to  Europe  for  the  furtherance  of  his 
new  plans,  M.  Coillard  was  at  length  in  a posi- 
tion to  trek  to  the  north  again.  This  time  he 
was  accompanied  not  only  by  Basuto  helpers, 
but  by  a young  Swiss  clergyman,  M.  Jean- 
mairet,  and  by  two  white  artisans,  one  English 
and  the  other  Scotch,  whose  services  proved 
absolutely  invaluable  to  the  enterprise.  In  the 
interval  Barotseland  had  been  visited  by  Mr. 
F.  S.  Arnot,  of  whom  something  will  be  said 
in  another  chapter.  He  had  spent  a consider- 


102 


The  Makari-kari  Desert 

able  time  in  Lewanika’s  capital,  facing  endless 
privations  and  trials,  but  had  at  length  been 
compelled  by  illness  to  leave  the  unhealthy 
Zambesi  basin  and  start  on  that  long  march  to 
Benguela  which  led  him  eventually  to  the  Garen- 
ganze  country.  It  was  to  take  up  and  carry  on 
the  work  which  Arnot  had  tried  to  begin  that 
M.  Coillard  now  turned  his  face  towards  the 
Upper  Zambesi. 

Having  once  more  reached  Khama’s  country, 
the  caravan  next  crossed  the  Makari-kari  Desert, 
with  its  swamps  and  sands,  its  almost  impene- 
trable jungles  of  thorn,  its  dreary  death-like 
solitudes.  Here  dwell  the  Bushmen,  the  Masa- 
roa,  as  they  are  called  by  the  tribes  of  the  Zam- 
besi basin.  These  people  would  have  proved 
troublesome  but  for  the  fact  that  Khama,  whose 
strong  arm  was  respected  over  all  that  region, 
had  once  more  sent  a party  of  his  men  to  accom- 
pany the  travellers  all  the  way  to  their  destina- 
tion. After  the  desert  came  vast  virgin  forests. 
Through  these  the  cumbrous  waggons  with  their 
long  teams  of  oxen,  so  suitable  for  movement 
on  the  open  veldt,  could  only  be  forced  with 
heart-breaking  toil  and  to  the  destruction  of 


103 


King  Lewanika  of  Barotseland 

nearly  everything  that  was  breakable.  Constant 
zigzags  were  indispensable,  but  in  spite  of  all 
care  in  trying  to  get  round  the  trees  an  un- 
expected branch  would  every  now  and  then 
make  a clean  sweep  of  a waggon,  so  that  port- 
manteaus, trunks,  tool-boxes,  books,  and  haber- 
dashery lay  in  wild  confusion  on  the  ground. 

At  length  to  their  intense  delight  they  came 
in  sight  of  the  great  river  just  where  the  Upper 
Zambesi  joins  its  waters  with  those  of  the  Chobe. 
But  their  difficulties  were  far  from  over.  The 
cruelties  of  Lewanika  had  brought  about  a 
revolution  in  Barotseland  ; the  king  had  been 
driven  into  exile,  and  the  whole  country  was  in 
a state  of  anarchy.  It  was  impossible  in  the 
meantime  to  proceed  up  the  river  to  the  capital, 
and  for  months  the  expedition  could  do  little 
but  wait  on  the  turn  of  events.  At  length  there 
came  a counter-revolution.  Lewanika  was  re- 
stored to  the  throne,  and  signalized  his  triumph 
by  a massacre  of  the  rebel  chiefs,  their  children 
also  being  put  to  death  without  exception,  while 
their  wives  were  divided  among  the  conquerors. 
After  all  this  had  taken  place,  Lewanika  gave 
permission  to  M.  Coillard  to  advance  into  the 


104 


King-  Lewanika  of  Barotseland 

o 

heart  of  Barotseland  and  to  begin  work  not  far 
from  Lealuyi,  as  the  capital  was  called. 

Seldom  has  pioneer  work  been  carried  on  in 
the  face  of  more  crushing  difficulties  and  bitter 
disappointments  than  those  which  were  en- 
countered for  several  years  by  this  heroic 
Frenchman  and  his  colleagues.  It  soon  turned 
out  that  Lewanika  cared  nothing  for  the  intro- 
duction of  Christianity  among  his  people  ; all 
that  he  wanted  was  to  reap  material  advantages 
from  the  presence  of  the  white  men  in  his 
country.  Whatever  was  theirs  he  considered 
to  be  his,  and  when  he  found  them  less  pliable 
than  his  own  cringing  subjects,  he  treated  them 
to  threats  and  studied  insults,  or  tried  to  starve 
them  out  by  a system  of  boycott  in  which  all 
the  markets  were  closed  against  them.  Mean- 
while they  had  to  witness  day  by  day  the  worst 
horrors  of  African  barbarism — the  inhumanities 
of  the  slave  trade,  the  fruits  of  a universal  belief 
in  witchcraft,  the  open  practice  of  murder. 
Slave  children  were  offered  to  the  Coillards 
whom  they  could  not  buy,  and  yet  they  knew 
that  to  refuse  might  be  to  sign  the  death-warrant 
of  a child.  It  was  impossible  to  walk  a few 


io5 


King  Lewanika  of  Barotseland 

steps  from  their  door  without  striking  their  feet 
against  a skull  or  a collection  of  half-charred 
human  bones,  marking  the  spot  where  men  and 
women  had  been  burned  alive.  Whoever  gave 
the  slightest  offence  to  Lewanika  was  at  once 
ordered  off  to  execution.  But  most  painful  of 
all  were  the  witchcraft  ordeals  which  constantly 
went  on.  If  misfortune  came  to  any  one  he 
had  only  to  accuse  a neighbour  of  having  used 
sorcery  against  him,  and  the  accused  must 
submit  to  trial  by  ordeal.  The  method  in 
Barotseland  was  by  boiling  water.  A pot  of 
water  was  set  on  a large  fire.  As  soon  as  the 
water  boiled  the  poor  wretch  had  to  plunge  his 
hands  into  it,  and  if  the  skin  peeled  off,  as  of 
course  it  almost  invariably  did,  he  was  at  once 
dragged  away  to  a cruel  death.  From  this  fate 
no  one  was  safe,  man  or  woman,  young  or  old, 
chief  or  slave. 

But  the  power  of  truth,  backed  by  such 
patience  and  heroism  as  were  shown  by  the 
Coillards,  gradually  began  to  tell.  Lewanika 
grew  ashamed  of  his  cruelties,  and  came  to 
have  a larger  sense  of  his  responsibilities  as  the 
master  of  a vast  territory  stretching  from  the 

106 


King  Lewanika  of  Barotseland 

Kalahari  Desert  on  the  south  to  the  watershed 
between  the  Congo  and  the  Zambesi  systems 
on  the  north.  He  was  naturally  a most  intelli- 
gent man,  possessed  of  a mechanical  skill 
exceedingly  rare  in  an  African  prince.  He 
had  a workshop  of  his  own  in  which  he  spent 
his  leisure  hours,  and  could  turn  out  almost 
anything  he  wanted,  from  a canoe  to  a har- 
monica or  a delicately  carved  ivory  bracelet. 
Canoe-building  was  a speciality  of  the  Barotse, 
for  like  all  the  Zambesians  they  are  essentially 
a river  people.  But  the  state-barge  of  the 
king's  own  designing,  sixty  feet  long  and 
manned  by  fifty  rowers,  was  a structure  of 
which  the  whole  nation  was  proud.  Though  his 
heart  was  difficult  to  reach,  his  intelligence  and 
ambition  could  be  appealed  to,  and  by  and  by 
he  grew  eager  to  see  education,  industry,  and 
civilization  develop  among  his  people.  As  the 
representatives  of  all  these  good  things,  he 
came  to  trust  M.  Coillard  and  his  colleagues, 
and  to  favour  the  progress  of  Christianity 
among  his  subjects. 

When  he  had  at  length  secured  a firm  footing 
in  the  capital,  Coillard  began  to  think  of  the 


107 


A Canoe  Voyage 

various  tribes  on  the  higher  reaches  of  the 
Zambesi,  which  were  more  or  less  under 
Lewanika’s  sway,  and  one  of  the  most  interest- 
ing chapters  of  his  striking  book,  On  the 
Threshold  of  Central  Africa , is  that  which  tells 
of  a voyage  of  exploration  far  up  towards  the 
sources  of  the  river.  He  was  accompanied  by 
forty  men  in  a flotilla  of  ten  canoes,  and,  in 
order  that  canoeing  might  be  easy,  the  expedi- 
tion was  made  at  a time  shortly  after  the  height 
of  the  annual  floods,  when  the  Zambesi  Valley 
was  all  under  water.  The  plain  at  this  season 
“is  a floating  prairie,  enamelled  with  flowers  ; 
rosetted  water-lilies,  with  their  delicate  tints  of 
blue,  pink,  and  white  ; and  a kind  of  convol- 
vulus which  proudly  erects  her  great  magenta 
trumpets,  only  dipping  them  reluctantly  as  our 
canoes  go  by.  But  it  is  also  diversified  by  tall 
grass  and  reeds,  through  which  we  have  to 
force  our  way.” 

Far  up  the  river  they  met  a venerable  man, 
nearly  blind,  who  had  seen  Livingstone,  and 
who  pointed  out  a spot  where  the  great  traveller 
had  camped  and  which  was  still  known  by  his 
name.  When  Coillard  spoke  of  Jesus  he 


Adventure  with  the  Balubale 

listened  attentively  and  said,  “It  is  just  what 
Nyaka  (i.e.  ‘The  Doctor’)  used  to  say.”  In 
one  place  where  the  Mission  party  held  a 
meeting  with  the  people  and  sang  a hymn,  they 
were  astonished  to  find  that  all  present  could 
join  in  it  heartily.  “Who  taught  it  to  you  ?” 
they  asked;  and  the  people  shouted,  “ Ban- 
gueta.”  Then  M.  Coillard  saw  how  the  seed 
he  had  been  sowing  had  silently  spread  like 
“bread  cast  upon  the  waters,”  for  Bangueta 
had  been  a pupil  in  his  own  school  at  Lealuyi. 

At  length  they  reached  a district  so  far  up 
the  river  that  Lewanika’s  name  was  no  longer 
the  protection  it  had  hitherto  been.  They  were 
now  in  the  country  of  the  Balubale,  whose 
chief  was  called  Kakenge.  A mob  of  young 
men  armed  with  guns  met  them,  who  demanded 
to  know  what  the  white  man  meant  by  coming 
into  Kakenge ’s  country  with  a band  of  Barotse, 
and  without  having  obtained  his  permission. 
They  also  sought  to  exact  the  homage  or  tax 
which  Kakenge  imposed  upon  all  traders 
coming  to  that  land.  Coillard  told  them  that 
he  was  not  a merchant  or  even  a traveller,  but 
a Moruti , i.e.  a teacher,  and  that  he  had  come 

109 


Adventure  with  the  Balubale 

among  them  to  teach  the  things  of  God.  They 
took  him  into  the  presence  of  the  king,  who 
was  throned  on  a stool,  clothed  in  a coloured 
blanket,  and  shaded  by  an  enormous  blue 
cotton  umbrella  held  by  a slave.  All  Coillard’s 
explanations  were  treated  by  Kakenge  as  lies, 
and  after  breaking  into  a passionate  speech,  he 
suddenly  turned  his  back  on  the  missionary 
and  disappeared  into  his  harem. 

Things  were  looking  bad,  especially  as  the 
expedition  had  been  refused  all  food  since 
coming  to  Kakenge  *s  country,  and  by  this  time 
they  were  nearly  starving.  But  the  situation 
grew  still  more  serious  when  two  of  M. 
Coillard’s  men,  who  had  contracted  blood- 
brotherhood  with  some  of  the  Balubale,  ob- 
tained secret  information  that  out  of  pure 
hatred  for  the  Barotse  Kakenge  had  sworn  to 
destroy  the  whole  party,  and  had  already  given 
orders  for  their  massacre. 

That  night  not  one  of  the  company  slept. 
All  of  them,  heathen  and  Christian  alike,  were 
praying  to  God.  And  next  day  a wonderful 
change  had  come  over  Kakenge’s  mind,  for  he 
sent  them  a plentiful  supply  of  millet  and  fowls 


IIO 


Wonderful  Changes 

and  sweet  potatoes,  and  when  they  went  in  a 
body  to  the  court  to  thank  him  for  his  kindness, 
told  them  that  he  had  come  to  believe  in  their 
good  intentions,  and  asked  them  to  forget  his 
ill-temper  of  the  past  days. 

This  was  the  farthest  point  reached  by  M. 
Coillard  in  his  advance  from  the  south  towards 
the  heart  of  Africa ; and  at  this  point  our 
account  of  the  labours  and  wanderings  of  this 
brave  and  devoted  Frenchman  must  stop. 
Those  who  wish  to  know  more  about  him  and 
his  work  will  find  the  story  fully  told  in  his  own 
book. 

There  have  been  wonderful  changes  on  the 
Upper  Zambesi  in  recent  years.  The  Barotse 
kingdom  now  forms  a part  of  that  vast  stretch  of 
British  African  territory  which  is  known  as 
Rhodesia.  King  Lewanika  himself  has  paid  a 
visit  to  England  and  been  presented  at  King 
Edward  s Court.  A mighty  bridge  now  spans 
the  Victoria  Falls.  Through  the  regions 
where  Coillard  once  toiled  slowly  with  his 
labouring  teams  the  Cape  to  Cairo  railway  now 
carries  its  passengers  in  swift  and  luxurious 
ease.  But  nothing  can  dim  the  honour  of  the 


ii 


A Christian  Hero 

heroic  Christian  “vortrekker”  who  left  his 
home  in  the  fair  Basuto  valleys  more  than  a 
generation  ago,  and  turned  the  poles  of  his 
ox-waggons  towards  the  land  beyond  the 
Limpopo. 

The  material  for  the  above  chapter  is  drawn  from  M.  Coillard’s 
On  the  Threshold  of  Central  Africa  (Hodder  and  Stoughton). 


A PIONEER  IN  GARENGANZE 


H 


CHAPTER  V 


A PIONEER  IN  GARENGANZE 

King  Msidi’s  letter — Garenganze — Fred  S.  Arnot — His  earlier  travels 
— The  expedition  from  Benguela— An  African  camp — The  bees- 
wax hunters — Watershed  of  the  continent — Reception  by  Msidi — 
A night  with  cheetahs  and  hyenas — Horrors  of  the  slave  traffic — 
The  saviours  of  Africa. 

SOME  twenty  years  ago  a young  Scotch- 
man, Fred  S.  Arnot  by  name,  who  was 
travelling  from  the  Upper  Zambesi  towards 
Benguela  on  the  West  African  coast,  met  a 
company  of  men  from  the  far  interior  with  a 
letter  in  their  charge.  The  letter  was  sent  by 
Msidi,  king  of  Garenganze,  and  contained  an 
earnest  appeal  that  white  men  would  come  to 
his  country.  Arnot  did  not  doubt  that  by  white 
men  Msidi  meant  traders,  by  whom  he  and  his 
people  might  be  enriched.  He  was  no  trader, 
but  a pioneer  missionary  who  had  already 
crossed  Africa  from  east  to  west  seeking  to  do 
good  to  the  native  tribes,  and  who  at  that  very 
time  was  wondering  where  it  would  be  best  for 


“5 


Garenganze 

him  to  settle  down  more  permanently  as  a 
Christian  teacher.  Yet  Msidi’s  appeal  came  to 
him  with  all  the  force  of  a personal  call,  and  he 
decided  that,  as  soon  as  he  reached  Benguela, 
he  would  make  preparations  for  a march  to  the 
Garenganze  country. 

Garenganze  lies  to  the  west  of  Lakes  Moero 
and  Bangweolo,  near  the  latter  of  which  Dr. 
Livingstone  died.  It  is  thus  in  the  very  heart 
of  Central  Africa,  some  1500  miles  each  way 
from  the  Indian  Ocean  and  the  Atlantic.  It  has 
now  been  absorbed  by  the  Congo  Free  State, 
but  at  that  time  it  was  a powerful  independent 
kingdom.  The  people,  judged  by  an  African 
standard,  had  attained  to  some  measure  of 
civilization;  and  King  Msidi,  in  the  same  com- 
parative sense,  was  an  able  and  enlightened 
monarch.  The  country  was  one  of  the  most 
densely  populated  in  that  part  of  the  continent, 
famed  far  and  near  for  the  abundance  of  its 
corn,  rice,  sugar-cane,  and  other  agricultural 
products  ; and  not  less  for  its  copper  mines, 
which  were  worked  by  the  inhabitants,  who 
cleansed  and  smelted  the  copper  out  of  the  ore 
with  remarkable  skill.  Up  to  1886,  the  year  of 

116 


Fred  S.  Arnot 

Arnot’s  arrival,  only  two  Europeans  had  visited 
Msidi’s  dominions — a German  traveller  from 
the  East  and  a Portuguese  from  the  south  ; and 
in  both  cases  the  visits  were  very  brief.  Living- 
stone had  never  reached  Garenganze,  though 
he  was  drawing  near  it  when  he  died  at  Ilala, 
not  far  from  the  shores  of  Lake  Bangweolo. 

But  though  Livingstone  himself  never  entered 
Garenganze,  it  was  a pioneer  of  Livingstone’s 
own  type  who  first  brought  the  Christian  Gos- 
pel to  Msidi’s  people.  Fred  S.  Arnot  may  be 
described  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  the 
many  heroes  of  African  travel,  not  so  much  for 
what  he  actually  accomplished  as  for  the  manner 
and  spirit  in  which  he  accomplished  it.  It  is 
here  that  he  especially  reminds  us  of  Dr. 
Livingstone.  His  methods  of  progress  were 
not  those  of  the  well-equipped  and  hustling 
explorer,  but  of  the  lonely  wanderer  who  makes 
his  way,  quietly,  patiently,  and  in  the  spirit  of 
love,  from  village  to  village  and  from  tribe  to 
tribe.  He  had  already  served  his  apprentice- 
ship to  African  travel.  Landing  in  Natal  in 
1 88 1,  he  had  slowly  trekked  through  the  Orange 
Free  State  and  the  Transvaal  to  Khama’s 


Fred  S.  Arnot 

country,  had  next  crossed  the  awful  Kalahari 
Desert,  and  so  made  his  way  to  the  Zambesi. 
A whole  year  was  occupied  in  this  journey, 
which  brought  with  it  many  experiences  of 
danger  and  suffering.  Repeatedly  he  had  been 
on  the  point  of  perishing  from  hunger  or  thirst. 
Once,  after  marching  in  the  desert  for  three 
days  and  nights  without  a drop  of  water,  he 
met  some  Bushmen,  who  supplied  him  with  a 
drink  after  their  own  fashion.  They  dug  a pit 
in  the  sand,  and  sank  long  tubes  made  of  reeds 
into  the  ground  at  the  bottom.  By  and  by 
water  began  to  gather,  as  they  knew  it  would, 
at  the  sunk  end  of  the  tube.  They  invited 
Arnot  to  drink.  He  tried,  but  was  quite  unable 
to  suck  the  water  up  the  long  tube.  The  Bush- 
men, whom  frequent  practice  had  made  adepts 
in  the  art,  accordingly  sucked  it  up  for  him, 
and  then  spat  it  out  into  a tortoise  shell  and 
handed  it  to  the  stranger.  “It  was  frothy 
stuff,”  he  writes,  “as  you  may  imagine  ; but  I 
enjoyed  it  more  than  any  draught  I ever  took 
of  Loch  Katrine  water.” 

His  ways  of  getting  food  had  sometimes  been 
peculiar  also.  On  the  Zambesi  he  often  de- 


Fred  S.  Arnot 

pended  for  his  supper  on  the  crocodiles,  which 
are  very  plentiful  in  that  great  river.  Not  that  he 
ate  those  loathsome  reptiles,  but  he  was  thankful 
at  least  to  share  their  meals.  When  one  of  the 
larger  game  comes  down  to  the  river  to  drink, 
the  crocodile  creeps  up  stealthily,  seizes  the 
animal  by  the  nose,  drags  it  under  water,  and 
then  hides  the  body  under  the  river  bank  until 
it  becomes  almost  putrid.  When  it  is  “high” 
enough  to  suit  his  taste,  Master  Croc  brings  it 
to  the  surface  and  enjoys  a feast.  The  hungry 
traveller  used  to  lie  on  the  bank  and  watch  one 
of  those  animals  as  it  rose,  with  perhaps  a 
quarter  of  an  antelope  in  its  jaws.  Then  he 
fired  at  its  head  and  compelled  it  to  drop  its 
supper,  and  in  this  way  provided  himself  with 
his  own.  He  admits  that  it  was  anything  but  a 
dainty  repast. 

Coming  at  last  to  the  malarious  Barotse 
Valley  on  the  Upper  Zambesi,  he  settled  down 
there  for  two  years,  doing  what  he  could  to 
teach  the  people  and  to  wean  them  from  their 
habitual  cruelties.  But  at  last  his  health  com- 
pletely broke  down,  and  he  decided  to  march 
for  the  west  coast  in  the  company  of  Senhor 


The  Expedition  from  Benguela 

Porto,  a Portuguese  traveller  who  was  going  in 
that  direction.  It  shows  the  stuff  of  which 
Arnot  was  made  that,  in  spite  of  his  reduced 
condition,  he  decided  to  ride  on  an  ox,  instead 
of  being  carried  like  his  fellow-traveller  in  a 
machila  or  hammock.  The  reason  he  gave 
was  that  “that  would  be  too  comfortable  a way 
of  travelling,  and  might  make  me  discontented 
and  extravagant  at  other  times.”  It  was  on 
this  journey  from  the  Barotse  Valley  to  Ben- 
guela that  he  fell  in  with  the  messengers  of 
King  Msidi,  as  mentioned  above,  and  resolved 
to  make  Garenganze  the  goal  of  another  ex- 
pedition in  the  interior. 

It  was  in  the  beginning  of  June,  1885,  that 
he  set  out  on  this  journey,  which  was  to  occupy 
between  eight  and  nine  months.  In  its  earlier 
stages  the  march  lay  along  a well-trodden  route 
in  Portuguese  territory,  from  Benguela  to 
Bihe.  First  came  the  low-lying  desert  region 
between  Benguela  and  Cantumbela,  which  is 
just  at  the  foot  of  the  hills  that  mark  the 
beginning  of  the  lower  section  of  the  char- 
acteristic African  plateau.  These  hills  climbed, 
he  found  himself  for  a time  in  a fertile 


120 


In  the  Footsteps  of  the  Slave  Trader 


Typical  African  Characters 

tropical  country  ; but  by  and  by  another  and  a 
higher  table-land  rose  before  him,  on  climbing 
which  he  passed  so  suddenly  out  of  the  climate 
of  the  tropics  that  he  could  almost  mark  the 
line  of  demarcation  between  trees  like  the  bao- 
bab and  the  more  familiar  vegetation  of  the 
temperate  zone. 

At  Bihe  Arnot  had  no  end  of  difficulty  in 
getting  porters  to  accompany  him  on  his  tramp 
into  the  unknown  regions  which  now  stretched 
before  him  like  an  unexplored  ocean.  But  at 
length  he  succeeded  in  gathering  a motley 
company,  some  of  the  members  of  which  he  has 
sketched  for  us  as  typical  African  characters  : — 

“ Chipooka  stammers  as  he  speaks,  but  is 
lively  under  all  circumstances  ; has  a bad  fester- 
ing toe,  which,  however,  does  not  prevent  him 
carrying  his  sixty-pound  load.  Though  limping 
badly,  his  only  response  to  expressions  of  sym- 
pathy is  a broad  grin.  Saombo  is  another 
representative  man,  perfectly  hideous  in  his 
looks,  but  vanity  has  made  his  ugliness  appear 
comical.  All  who  come  to  the  camp,  he  seems 
to  think,  have  come  to  see  him.  So,  as  soon 
as  a few  strangers  gather,  he  is  not  prepared 


1 2 1 


An  African  Camp 

for  more  hut-building  or  wood-cutting,  but 
must  go  and  sit  down  in  front  of  them,  laugh- 
ing and  clapping  his  thighs  with  delight,  and 
trying  to  crack  jokes.  Then  we  have  the  sulky 
grumbler  amongst  us,  who  has  always  some- 
thing to  complain  of.  Now  his  load  is  not 
right,  next  his  rations,  then  his  pay  ; or  a thorn 
pricks  his  foot,  and  he  can  carry  no  longer  that 
day.  The  work  has  to  be  done,  but  certainly 
not  by  him.” 

Besides  his  men  and  his  horned  steed,  for 
once  more  he  took  an  ox  as  his  bearer,  Arnot 
numbered  on  his  camp-roll  a faithful  dog  and  a 
parrot.  Senhor  Porto,  his  recent  companion, 
was  accustomed  to  carry  a cock  with  him  on  his 
travels  by  way  of  an  animated  chronometer, 
whose  morning  crows  announced  to  all  that  it 
was  time  to  commence  the  day’s  march.  Arnot 
found  a cock  unnecessary,  the  cooing  of  the 
wood-pigeons  being  a sufficient  signal  to  his 
men  that  dawn  had  come  and  that  it  was  time 
to  be  stirring.  But  he  recommends  a parrot  as 
a valuable  addition  to  the  resources  of  an  Afri- 
can caravan.  His  Poll  was  of  great  service  in 
keeping  up  the  spirit  of  his  boys.  It  was  a 


1 22 


An  African  Camp 

true  Mark  Tapley  of  a bird,  seeming  as  if  it 
watched  for  opportunities  when  there  would 
be  some  credit  in  being  jolly.  When  every 
one  was  dull  and  depressed  it  would  suddenly 
make  some  ridiculous  remark  or  break  out  in 
imitation  of  an  old  man’s  laugh.  So  it  relieved 
the  monotony  of  the  march,  and  put  the  weary 
carriers  into  good  humour  again. 

Mr.  Arnot  gives  us  a clear  picture  of  the 
daily  routine  of  an  African  journey.  By  break 
of  day  the  camp  is  astir,  for  the  porters  are 
always  anxious  to  get  well  along  the  road  in 
the  cool  of  the  morning.  Breakfast  they  do 
not  trouble  about,  being  content  to  have  one 
good  meal  at  the  close  of  the  day.  They 
buckle  on  their  belts,  shoulder  their  loads  of 
60  lb.  each,  and  trot  off  through  the  forest. 
Probably  some  one  begins  a solo  in  a high  key, 
and  all  join  lustily  in  the  chorus.  One  or  two 
halts  are  made,  and  there  may  be  considerable 
delay  when  rivers  have  to  be  crossed.  But  for 
the  most  part  all  press  on  steadily  for  the  next 
camping-place,  which  is  generally  reached  by 
noon. 

When  a site  for  the  camp  has  been  fixed 


123 


An  African  Camp 

upon,  some  of  the  party  are  sent  out  to  the 
nearest  villages  to  buy  food — the  staple  diet 
being  maize  meal  made  into  a thick  porridge, 
of  which  an  African  will  consume  an  astonishing 
quantity.  Meanwhile  the  others  busy  them- 
selves with  erecting  shelters  for  the  night. 
Poles  are  cut  down  in  the  forest,  and  stacked 
after  the  manner  in  which  soldiers  pile  their 
rifles.  Against  these,  branches  are  rested,  and 
if  it  is  the  rainy  season  a thatching  of  the  long 
African  grass  is  added.  Then  fires  are  kindled 
to  cook  the  supper,  and  these  are  kept  up 
through  the  night  to  scare  away  wild  beasts. 
An  African  camp  at  night,  says  Mr.  Arnot, 
would  make  a fine  picture  on  canvas — the  blaz- 
ing fires ; the  black  faces  clustered  round  them  ; 
the  men  singing,  talking,  laughing ; and  all 
about  a pitchy  darkness,  made  doubly  deep  by 
the  dense  shadows  of  bush  and  forest.  Every 
night  it  was  the  leader’s  habit  to  sit  with  his 
men  around  the  camp  fires,  trying  in  every 
possible  way  to  convey  to  them  intelligent 
thoughts  as  to  his  mission.  He  felt  that  it  was 
of  the  first  importance  that  they  should  under- 
stand something  about  his  message  and  his 


124 


The  Beeswax  Hunters 

motive  in  bringing  it,  and  so  should  be  able  to 
give  an  answer  to  the  thousands  of  natives  who 
would  be  sure  to  bombard  them  with  questions 
as  to  who  this  white  man  was  and  why  he  had 
come. 

One  of  the  districts  traversed  by  the  caravan 
was  the  Chibowke  country,  a land  of  beeswax 
hunters,  who  spend  weeks  on  end  in  the  depths 
of  the  forest  gathering  beeswax  to  sell  to  the 
Bih6  traders,  and  living  meanwhile  on  little  else 
than  wild  honey.  A high  region  was  crossed 
where  one  day,  in  the  space  of  two  or  three 
hours,  they  saw  the  fountain-heads  of  streams 
which  flow  respectively  into  the  Congo  and  the 
Zambesi,  and  so  ultimately  into  the  Atlantic  on 
the  one  side  of  the  continent  and  the  Indian 
Ocean  on  the  other.  Then  came  a wide  tract 
where  population  was  scanty  and  food  scarce, 
and  Arnot  had  a good  deal  of  trouble  with  his 
men.  They  demanded  more  rations,  and  es- 
pecially more  meat.  One  day  they  flung  down 
their  loads  crying,  “ Monare  ” (their  name  for 
Arnot),  “give  us  meat.  Why  don’t  you  hunt? 
You  are  starving  us.”  Anxious  though  he  was 
to  press  on,  he  saw  that  there  was  nothing  for 


25 


Heroic  Surgery 

it  but  to  devote  the  day  to  hunting.  He  seized 
his  gun,  forgetting  that  it  was  loaded,  and  as 
he  was  pulling  off  the  cover,  the  charge  sud- 
denly went  off,  shattering  the  point  of  his  left 
forefinger.  There  was  no  one  with  him  who 
could  dress  a wound,  and  he  thought  it  best 
to  get  one  of  the  men  to  cut  off  the  top  joint 
according  to  his  directions.  The  accident  had 
a subduing  effect  on  the  men,  who  felt  as  if 
they  were  to  blame  for  it ; and  in  spite  of  hunger 
they  tramped  on  bravely.  Starvation,  however, 
had  begun  to  stare  them  in  the  face  when  Arnot 
succeeded  one  day  in  shooting  two  wart-hogs, 
one  of  which  weighed  over  200  lb.  and  had 
tusks  over  a foot  long.  A time  of  feasting 
followed.  And  as  the  men  marched  along  once 
more,  their  leader  heard  them  saying  : “ Don’t 
you  remember  what  things  we  said  of  the 
white  man  and  his  God  ? What  names  we 
called  them  ! But  the  white  man’s  God  has 
been  with  us,  and  has  filled  our  bodies  with  pig- 
meat.” 

The  trials  of  the  long  journey  were  now 
nearly  over.  A few  days  more  brought  them 
to  the  Garenganze  country,  where,  after  so 

126 


Reception  by  Msidi 

many  days  in  a desert  region,  it  was  a delight 
to  see  fields  of  grain  and  abundance  of  food, 
and  still  more  to  be  hospitably  received  on 
every  hand.  On  reaching  the  capital  Arnot 
expected  to  have  an  early  interview  with  the 
king.  But  it  was  not  Msidi’s  habit  to  welcome 
strangers  all  at  once.  For  some  time  the  white 
man  was  placed  in  a sort  of  quarantine,  while 
various  tests  were  employed  by  witch  doctors 
and  diviners  to  see  whether  his  intentions  were 
good  or  bad,  and  “whether  his  heart  was  as 
white  as  his  skin.”  A little  piece  of  bark,  for 
instance,  was  placed  at  night  in  a certain  de- 
coction. If  next  morning  the  bark  appeared 
quite  sound,  that  showed  that  the  heart  of  the 
new-comer  was  equally  so.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  was  in  the  least  decomposed,  the  infer- 
ence was  that  his  heart  was  rotten,  and  that  he 
must  not  be  trusted.  Fortunately,  after  several 
days  had  been  spent  in  experiments  of  this 
kind,  everything  turned  out  in  Arnots  favour, 
and  the  king  accorded  him  a public  reception. 

The  reception  was  both  friendly  and  im- 
posing. Msidi,  an  elderly  man  with  a white 
beard,  folded  his  arms  around  the  traveller  in 


127 


Reception  by  Msidi 

the  most  fatherly  manner,  and  then  introduced 
him  to  his  wives,  of  whom  he  had  500,  as  well 
as  to  his  numerous  brothers,  cousins,  and  other 
relatives.  Arnot  found  that  Livingstone’s  name 
was  one  to  charm  with.  Msidi  had  heard  of 
the  Doctor’s  approach  from  the  east  in  1873 
and  of  his  death  at  Ilala,  and  was  pleased  to 
learn  that  his  visitor  was  a man  of  peace  and 
goodwill  like  Livingstone,  and  that  he  hailed 
from  the  same  country.  He  begged  Arnot  to 
remain  in  Garenganze  and  to  build  himself  a 
house  on  any  site  he  pleased  ; and  this  was  the 
beginning  of  the  Garenganze  Mission. 

For  two  years  Arnot  toiled  on  all  alone  in 
that  remote  land,  making  tours  of  exploration 
from  the  capital  into  the  surrounding  districts. 
In  most  places  the  people  had  never  seen  a 
white  man  before,  and  his  appearance  created 
a great  sensation.  The  very  print  of  his  boots 
on  the  path  was  a portent.  “ His  feet,”  they 
said,  “are  not  a man’s  feet;  they  are  the  feet 
of  a zebra.”  He  had  many  strange  adventures 
and  not  a few  narrow  escapes.  But  perhaps 
his  most  trying  experience  was  when  he  spent 
a whole  night  in  the  open,  alone  and  in  pitch 

128 


Cheetahs  and  Hyenas 

darkness,  surrounded  by  a ring  of  hungry  wild 
beasts. 

He  had  gone  out  in  the  company  of  a native 
to  shoot  antelopes  at  a time  when  food  wras 
scarce,  and  after  a long  tramp  had  succeeded 
in  getting  near  to  a herd  and  bringing  down 
three.  By  this  time,  however,  the  sun  was 
setting,  and  the  dismal  howl  of  the  hyena  began 
to  be  heard.  The  nearest  village  was  far  off, 
but  Arnot  sent  his  companion  to  bring  assist- 
ance, resolving  to  keep  guard  himself  over  the 
game  throughout  the  night.  He  had  no  means 
of  kindling  a fire,  and  to  make  matters  worse, 
his  ammunition  was  all  expended,  so  that  he 
had  no  weapons  but  an  empty  rifle  and  a hunting 
knife.  One  of  the  antelopes,  which  lay  at  a 
distance  of  about  a hundred  yards  from  the 
rest,  he  soon  had  to  surrender,  but  he  marched 
up  and  down  beside  the  other  two,  shouting 
and  stamping  and  making  as  much  noise  as 
possible.  The  cold  grew  so  intense  by  and 
by  that  he  drew  his  hunting  knife  and  skinned 
one  of  the  antelopes  as  best  he  could  in  the 
dark,  rolled  himself  in  the  warm  hide,  and  lay 
down  on  the  ground.  But  no  sooner  had  he 

i i?9 


Horrors  of  the  Slave  Traffic 

done  this  than  he  heard  stealthy  footsteps  ap- 
proaching, so  that  he  had  to  spring  up  again. 
Only  by  rushing  up  and  down  for  several  hours, 
shouting  all  the  time,  was  he  able  to  keep  his 
savage  assailants  at  bay.  When  daylight  came 
he  saw  from  the  footprints  that  he  had  been 
surrounded  through  the  night  by  a band  of 
hyenas  and  cheetahs.  It  was  fortunate  for  him 
that  no  lions  had  been  attracted  to  the  spot. 

For  two  years,  as  we  have  said,  Arnot  held 
this  missionary  outpost  single-handed  before 
any  reinforcements  arrived,  and  during  all  that 
time  he  never  had  a chance  of  receiving  even  a 
letter  from  the  outer  world.  The  oppression  of 
this  loneliness  was  increased  by  the  heathen 
vices  and  cruelties  which  went  on  in  Garen- 
ganze  just  as  in  other  parts  of  Darkest  Africa. 
All  around  him  in  particular  the  horrors  of  the 
slave-traffic  prevailed,  and  infants  were  con- 
stantlydone  to  death  because  their  owners  had  no 
use  for  them.  The  slave-traders  regarded  them 
as  positive  nuisances,  not  only  encumbering 
their  mothers  on  the  march,  but  preventing 
them  from  carrying  loads  of  ivory  or  some  other 
commodity.  And  as  no  one  wanted  to  buy  the 

i3o 


Horrors  of  the  Slave  Traffic 

helpless  little  creatures,  the  slavers  quite  com- 
monly flung  them  into  a river  or  dashed  out 
their  brains  against  the  trunk  of  a tree.  As  we 
read  of  the  sights  that  were  to  be  seen  in  Garen- 
ganze  day  by  day,  we  do  not  wonder  that  the 
saying  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  among  the 
slave  population,  “Cheer  up,  slave!  The 
Emperor  (death)  is  coming  along  to  save  you.” 

One  day  the  body  of  a fine  little  boy,  with  a 
fatal  spear  gash  through  and  through,  was 
picked  up  on  the  road.  It  was  a child  whose 
owner  shortly  before  had  pressed  Arnot  to  take 
it.  Another  infant  whom  he  had  felt  unable  to 
accept  was  thrown  into  the  bush  and  devoured 
by  the  beasts.  And  so  he  was  led  to  resolve 
that  he  must  at  all  costs  save  these  poor  slave 
children — a decision  which  soon  brought  him 
an  embarrassing  family  of  youngsters  to  whom 
he  had  to  take  the  place  of  both  father  and 
mother. 

Not  less  painful  than  the  accompaniments  of 
slavery  was  the  prevalence  of  human  sacrifice. 
Msidi  never  entered  upon  any  enterprise  with- 
out seeking  to  ensure  himself  of  success  by 
putting  some  one  to  death.  No  one  knew 


The  Saviours  of  Africa 

beforehand  who  the  victim  might  be*  The 
king  simply  said  that  So-and-so  was  to  be 
taken,  and  straightway  the  appointed  man  or 
woman  was  led  out  to  the  slaughter. 

There  is  a heroism  of  patient  endurance  and 
continuance  as  well  as  a heroism  of  bold 
achievement.  It  sometimes  needs  more  courage 
to  hold  the  trenches  than  to  lead  the  forlorn 
charge.  Arnot  showed  himself  a hero  in  both 
kinds.  His  marches  through  Africa,  first  from 
Natal  to  the  West  Coast,  and  then  again  from 
Benguela  to  Garenganze,  reveal  some  of  the 
best  qualities  of  the  intrepid  explorer.  But  his 
quiet  persistence  in  his  chosen  work  as  a 
messenger  of  Christ,  through  loneliness  and 
sickness,  through  danger  and  disappointment, 
tells  of  other  qualities  which  are  nobler  and 
finer.  It  is  men  like  this  hero  of  Garenganze 
who  are  the  true  saviours  of  Africa. 

Mr.  Arnot’s  book,  from  which  the  above  sketch  is  drawn,  is 
entitled  Garenganze , or  Seven  Years'  Pioneer  Mission  Work  in  Central 
Africa  (London  : James  E.  Hawkins). 


132 


A TRAMP  THROUGH 
THE  GREAT  PYGMY  FOREST 


CHAPTER  VI 


A TRAMP  THROUGH 
THE  GREAT  PYGMY  FOREST 


PygmyUnd — Mr.  A.  B.  Lloyd — From  Uganda  to  the  Congo  mouth — 
The  Great  Forest — Vegetable  and  animal  life — Gorillas — The 
elephant  and  the  zareba — “Don’t  shoot;  it’s  a man!" — The 
friendly  Pygmies — Appearance  and  habits — Pygmy  worship — The 
Ituri  River — “Riding  on  a snake" — Down  the  Congo — Pygmy- 
land  and  the  Kingdom  of  Christ. 


F Stanley’s  different  expeditions  to  Africa 


the  greatest,  though  in  some  respects  the 
least  successful,  was  the  last,  when  he  marched 
by  way  of  the  Congo  for  the  relief  of  Emin 
Pasha.  And  of  all  the  thrilling  chapters  of  In 
Darkest  Africa>  where  he  tells  the  story  of  that 
long  struggle  against  frightful  difficulties,  none 
are  more  fascinating  than  those  in  which  he 
describes  his  march  through  the  vast  primeval 
forest  of  the  Upper  Congo  and  its  tributary,  the 
Aruwimi,  and  his  encounters  with  the  strange 
dwarfish  people  who  dwell  in  that  region  of 


*35 


Mr.  A.  B.  Lloyd 

interminable  gloom.  Rumours  of  the  Pygmies 
had  come  to  the  civilized  world  from  time  to 
time,  especially  through  the  reports  of  Arab 
traders';  but  few  persons  believed  those  rumours 
to  have  much  more  reality  behind  them  than 
the  tales  of  Baron  Munchausen.  Stanley  proved, 
however,  that  the  existence  of  the  Pygmies  was 
a fact  and  not  a fable.  And  it  was  natural  that 
a later  traveller,  who,  in  addition  to  Stanley’s 
courage  and  love  of  adventure,  possessed  a 
large  share  of  the  missionary  spirit,  should  visit 
the  Great  Forest  with  the  view  of  learning 
something  about  the  religion  of  the  Pygmy 
folk,  and  particularly  of  seeing  what  prospect 
there  might  be  of  carrying  the  light  of  Christian 
civilization  with  success  into  that  shadowy 
world  in  which  this  unknown  people  lived  and 
died. 

Mr.  A.  B.  Lloyd,  the  hero  of  this  enterprise, 
was  a young  missionary  of  the  C.M.S.  who 
had  been  working  for  some  time  in  the  district 
of  Toro  on  the  western  side  of  the  Uganda 
Protectorate,  under  the  very  shadow  of  the 
giant  snow-capped  peaks  of  Ruwenzori,  an- 
ciently known  as  the  Mountains  of  the  Moon. 

136 


Mr.  A.  B.  Lloyd 

His  experiences  already  had  been  of  an  excit- 
ing kind,  for  he  had  been  in  the  thick  of  the 
fighting  in  Uganda  during  the  year  1897,  when 
the  Soudanese  troops  mutinied,  and  Mwanga, 
the  dethroned  king,  himself  raised  the  standard 
of  rebellion  against  the  British  rule.  Primarily 
Mr.  Lloyd’s  duties  in  the  campaign  had  been 
to  act  as  interpreter  to  the  British  forces  and  to 
give  the  wounded  the  benefit  of  such  surgical 
skill  as  he  possessed.  But  he  was  a good  shot 
with  a Martini  rifle,  and  a “handy  man”  gene- 
rally, who  could  work  a Maxim  gun  in  case  of 
need.  He  did  not  hesitate,  accordingly,  as  a 
loyal  British  subject,  to  play  his  part  like  a 
soldier  in  the  suppression  of  the  rebellion, 
along  with  the  handful  of  white  men  who  at 
that  time  represented  Queen  Victoria  and  the 
British  flag  in  the  heart  of  Africa.  His  com- 
panion and  friend,  the  Rev.  G.  Pilkington,  fell 
in  the  course  of  the  fighting,  and  Mr.  Lloyd 
himself  had  several  narrow  escapes  in  the  eleven 
engagements  in  which  he  took  part.  At  last, 
after  a long  period  of  great  strain,  a reaction 
came,  and  he  was  laid  down  with  malarial 
fever.  On  recovering  from  the  attack  he  was 


137 


Uganda  to  the  Congo  Mouth 

ordered  to  give  up  his  work  for  a time  and 
leave  for  England  in  order  to  recruit. 

In  these  circumstances  ninety-nine  men  out 
of  a hundred  would  have  made  for  home  from 
Uganda  by  the  ordinary  East  Coast  route,  via 
Zanzibar.  But  Mr.  Lloyd  was  the  hundredth 
man,  and  he  decided  to  strike  westwards  right 
across  the  continent,  by  way  of  the  Pygmy 
Forest  of  the  Upper  Aruwimi.  His  prepara- 
tions were  soon  made,  for  unlike  Stanley  he 
had  no  intention  of  advancing  at  the  head  of  a 
small  army.  He  secured  as  a guide  a man  who 
had  once  before  passed  through  the  forest ; 
furnished  himself  with  provisions  for  three 
months  ; gathered  a few  porters  ; and  with  a 
bicycle,  a camera,  a donkey,  and  a faithful  little 
dog  named  Sally,  set  out  upon  his  tramp  into 
the  unknown. 

For  the  first  stages  of  the  journey  the  way 
was  plain.  The  mighty  mass  of  Ruwenzori, 
which  barred  direct  progress  to  the  west,  had 
to  be  circumvented,  and  thereafter  the  route  lay 
through  a charming  plain  abounding  in  game, 
where  to  the  delight  of  his  followers  Mr.  Lloyd 
was  able  to  supply  them  plentifully  with 

138 


The  Great  Forest 

elephant  steak  and  antelope  joints.  After  five 
or  six  days’  pleasant  marching  a river  was 
crossed  which  forms  the  boundary  between  the 
Uganda  Protectorate  and  the  Congo  Free 
State,  and  four  days’  progress  through  King 
Leopold’s  territory  brought  the  party  to  a 
Belgian  fort  called  Mbeni,  where  they  rested 
for  two  days.  Here  they  saw  running  along 
the  western  horizon  a long  dark  belt  which, 
they  were  told,  was  the  commencement  of  the 
Great  Forest.  Leaving  Mbeni  they  made  for 
the  centre  of  this  black  line,  and  soon  plunged 
into  a mysterious  region  of  darkness  and  soli- 
tude from  which  they  were  not  to  escape  for 
many  days. 

The  Great  Forest  of  the  Congo  has  an  area 
of  no  less  than  300,000  square  miles — about  six 
times  the  area  of  England  not  including  Wales. 
The  scenery  which  meets  the  traveller’s  eye  is 
described  by  Mr.  Lloyd  as  possessed  of  a 
beauty  of  its  own — a beauty  that  is  thoroughly 
weird  and  uncanny.  Majestic  trees  tower  up 
towards  the  sky  to  the  height  often  of  200 
feet,  interlacing  their  foliage  so  closely  that 
not  even  the  rays  of  the  tropical  sun  are  able  to 


1 39 


Vegetable  and  Animal  Life 

pierce  through  the  dense  barrier.  The  day  at 
best  is  a dull  twilight,  while  at  night  a black- 
ness falls  which  might  almost  be  described  as 
solid.  In  spite  of  the  want  of  sunshine,  how- 
ever, the  vegetable  life  is  wondrously  profuse. 
Strange  ferns  and  flowers  spring  on  every  hand, 
and  gigantic  creepers,  with  cables  which  are 
sometimes  a foot  in  diameter,  climb  up  the 
trunks  and  along  the  branches  from  tree  to  tree 
until  the  whole  forest  becomes  a confused 
tangle  of  luxuriant  growths. 

The  animal  life  is  not  less  exuberant.  Insects 
swarm  and  chirp  and  buzz  on  every  hand. 
Birds  of  the  most  variegated  plumage  flit  from 
bough  to  bough,  some  of  them  uttering  deep 
musical  sounds  like  the  tolling  of  a bell,  others 
of  the  parrot  tribe  whose  only  music  is  the 
harshest  of  screams.  And  there  are  other 
denizens  of  this  vast  woodland.  “Elephants 
and  buffalo  are  met  with  constantly,  sometimes 
in  herds,  sometimes  singly  ; wild  pigs  and 
forest  antelope,  many  species  of  gazelles,  chim- 
panzee, gorilla,  and  vast  quantities  of  monkeys 
of  every  kind  are  seen  ; leopards,  panthers, 
wild  cats,  civets,  hyenas,  and  reptiles.  Deadly 


140 


Gorillas 

snakes  will  be  found  hanging  from  the  branches 
of  the  trees,  or  curled  up  amongst  the  decay- 
ing vegetation  beneath ; huge  black  adders, 
pythons,  bright  green  snakes  with  wicked 
red  eyes,  whipcord  snakes  which  look  for  all 
the  world  like  green  twigs.  The  forest  is 
threaded  with  a network  of  rivers  and  streams, 
and  all  seemed  full  of  fish.  There  are  also 
crocodiles  and  hippos,  water-snakes  and  lizards, 
leeches  and  slow- worms.” 

With  the  great  majority  of  these  animals  the 
traveller  was  quite  familiar,  for,  by  the  necessity 
of  his  calling,  a pioneer  missionary  in  Central 
Africa  is  something  of  a sportsman,  since  the 
very  life  of  his  followers  and  himself  when  on 
the  march  may  depend  on  his  skill  in  shooting 
game.  Elephants,  buffaloes,  and  antelopes  he 
had  often  dealt  with.  The  roar  of  the  lion  and 
the  yelp  of  the  leopard  in  search  of  its  prey 
were  familiar  sounds  to  his  ears.  But  he  had 
not  long  entered  the  forest  when  evidence  came 
of  the  near  presence  of  the  gorilla,  an  animal 
which  is  only  to  be  found  in  Central  Africa, 
and  there  only  in  the  depths  of  “the  forest 
primeval.” 


Gorillas 

They  had  reached  a particularly  dark  bit  of 
the  forest  where  no  light  at  all  seemed  to  come 
from  the  sky,  so  that,  though  it  was  only 
one  p.m.,  a gloom  as  of  night  was  all  about 
them.  Suddenly  they  heard  a strange  noise 
not  far  off,  as  of  deep  voices  angrily  quarrelling. 
For  a moment  every  one  was  scared,  but  the 
guide  assured  them  that  it  was  nothing  else 
than  nkima  nkubwa  (“big  monkeys”).  The 
Belgians  at  Fort  Mbeni  had  told  Mr.  Lloyd 
that  he  would  probably  meet  with  gorillas,  and 
gorillas  these  doubtless  were.  But  for  the 
present  he  was  quite  content  with  hearing  their 
voices,  having  no  desire  at  the  head  of  his 
unarmed  porters  to  make  their  closer  acquaint- 
ance. 

For  six  days  the  little  expedition  fought  its 
way  through  wood  and  jungle  without  meeting 
with  any  adventures  of  an  especially  thrilling 
kind.  Every  day,  however,  the  difficulties  of 
steady  progress  grew  greater.  The  under- 
growth seemed  to  get  thicker  and  thicker  as 
they  advanced,  and  Mr.  Lloyd  had  to  walk  in 
front  of  the  line  with  an  old  sword-bayonet, 
chopping  a way  for  himself  and  for  the  porters 


142 


Difficulties  of  the  March 

who  followed  with  the  loads.  The  guide,  too, 
it  soon  turned  out,  was  hopelessly  at  sea  as  to 
direction  ; and  so  Mr.  Lloyd  had  further  to 
pilot  his  company  as  best  he  could  with  the  help 
of  a compass,  trying  to  keep  a north-westerly 
course  with  the  view  of  striking  the  Ituri  river, 
a principal  affluent  of  the  Aruwimi,  and  then  of 
proceeding  along  its  banks  until  they  should 
emerge  from  the  forest.  Besides  overcoming 
the  obstacles  presented  by  the  tangles  of  bush 
and  creeper,  the  caravan  had  every  now  and 
then  to  cross  one  or  other  of  the  numerous 
marshy  streams  which  find  their  way  through 
the  forest,  most  of  them  being  deep  enough  to 
take  a man  up  to  the  armpits,  and  some  of  them 
so  polluted  with  rotting  vegetation  as  to  be 
highly  offensive  to  the  smell. 

A day’s  march  under  such  conditions  was 
very  exhausting  ; but  the  work  of  the  day  was 
far  from  over  when  the  day’s  tramp  was  done. 
A piece  of  ground  had  to  be  cleared  where  a 
tent  could  be  pitched,  and  a strong  zareba  or 
fence  built  round  it  as  a protection  against  wild 
animals — leopards,  panthers,  and  elephants — 
which  gave  the  travellers  many  an  uneasy 


143 


The  Elephant  and  the  Zareba 

moment.  Through  the  night  they  often  heard 
elephants  squealing  loudly,  and  trampling 
through  the  bush  in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood of  their  little  camp.  And  one  morning 
when  Mr.  Lloyd  had  risen  early  and  gone 
out  of  the  tent  before  any  of  his  men  were 
awake,  he  found  a huge  old  tusker  with  its 
head  over  the  zareba,  “ evidently  in  deep 
thought,  and  wondering  what  on  earth  this 
could  mean.” 

Six  days  had  passed  since  entering  the  forest, 
and  not  a trace  of  the  Pygmies  had  anywhere 
been  seen.  Mr.  Lloyd  began  to  wonder  if  the 
Pygmy  stories  were  really  true.  But  on  the 
seventh  day,  as  he  was  walking  in  advance  of 
the  caravan,  rifle  in  hand,  accompanied  by  his 
black  boy  and  looking  out  for  a shot  at  some 
wild  pigs  which  had  been  sighted  shortly  before, 
the  boy  stopped  of  a sudden,  cried  “Monkey  !” 
and  pointed  towards  the  top  of  a high  cotton- 
tree  beneath  which  they  were  passing.  Mr. 
Lloyd  looked  up,  and  there  sure  enough  was  a 
creature  which  from  its  size  he  took  to  be  a 
gorilla.  Now  his  men  had  been  glad  to  eat 
monkey-meat  before  this  when  nothing  better 


144 


Don’t  Shoot ; it’s  a Man!” 


was  to  be  had.  So  he  raised  his  rifle  to  his 
shoulder,  took  careful  aim,  and  was  in  the  act 
of  pulling  the  trigger  when  his  boy  hastily 
pulled  his  arm  and  exclaimed,  ‘ ‘Don’t  shoot 
— it’s  a man  ! ” At  once  he  saw  that  the 
boy  was  right.  It  was  a strongly  built  little 
man,  who,  seeing  that  he  was  observed,  ran 
along  the  branch  on  which  he  stood,  and 
jumping  from  tree  to  tree  with  the  agility  of 
a monkey,  soon  disappeared  in  the  depths  of 
the  forest. 

They  had  pitched  their  tent  that  same  after- 
noon, and  Mr.  Lloyd  had  sat  down  at  the  tent 
door  with  a book  in  his  hand  intending  to  read 
for  a little,  when,  on  looking  up,  he  saw  a 
number  of  little  faces  peering  at  him  through 
the  thickets  in  front,  and  one  in  particular, 
which  was  nearer  than  the  rest,  peeping  round 
the  trunk  of  a huge  tree  that  grew  right  oppo- 
site. The  boys,  who  were  cooking  food  for  the 
evening  meal,  noticed  the  little  people  at  the 
same  time  and  sprang  up  in  alarm,  for  they 
knew  the  Pygmies  only  by  report,  and  thought 
of  them  as  a kind  of  devils.  For  some  time  the 
white  man  and  the  dwarfs  remained  motionless, 


K 


45 


The  Friendly  Pygmies 

gazing  silently  at  one  another  in  a mutual 
fascination,  though  Mr.  Lloyd  felt  all  the  while 
that  at  any  moment  he  might  be  transfixed  with 
a shower  of  poisoned  arrows  from  the  bows 
with  which  the  Pygmies  were  armed.  Stanley 
had  characterized  them  as  “ malicious  dwarfs,” 
and  his  warlike  company  had  been  greatly  har- 
assed by  them  again  and  again.  But  at  length 
it  occurred  to  the  missionary,  still  sitting  peace- 
fully in  his  camp-chair,  to  call  out  the  ordinary 
salutation  of  the  people  of  Toro  ; and  when  he 
did  so,  to  his  great  surprise  one  little  man 
immediately  returned  the  greeting  in  the  same 
language.  He  then  said,  “Come  here  and  let 
us  talk  together  ” ; and,  very  shyly,  the  nearest 
of  the  dwarfs  crept  forwards,  followed  by  a few 
of  the  others,  half  covering  his  face  with  his 
hand  and  staring  through  his  fingers  at  the  white 
man  in  a sort  of  amazement. 

As  the  Pygmies  approached,  Mr.  Lloyd  was 
struck  first  of  all  by  their  extreme  shortness  of 
stature,  four  feet  being  the  average  height  of  a 
full-grown  man,  but  next  by  their  exceedingly 
well-knit  figures  and  powerful  limbs.  The  one 
who  replied  to  his  salutation  turned  out  to  be 

146 


A Visit  from  the  Dwarfs 

1 called  out,  “Come  and  let  us  talk  together.”  First  one  man  came  creeping  towards  me,  then  some  of  his  companions  who  dodged  behind  one 
another.  They  were  all  short  (about  4 feet)  but  powerfully  built,  with  broad  chests  and  well-developed  muscles.  1 chatted  away  to  the  chief, 
who  was  the  first  to  approach  me.  He  knew  the  Toro  language,  and  amazed  me  with  his  smart  answers. 


A Good-natured  Chief 

the  chief  of  the  party.  This  man  had  once 
come  in  contact  with  some  people  from  Toro, 
and  hence  knew  a little  of  the  Toro  language. 
With  him,  Mr.  Lloyd  was  able  to  carry  on  an 
imperfect  conversation,  in  which  he  learned 
something  of  the  Pygmies  and  their  ways. 
One  of  the  first  things  the  chief  told  him  was, 
that  for  six  days  he  and  his  people  had  been 
following  the  caravan  and  keeping  it  under 
constant  observation.  “ But  we  never  saw 
you,”  the  traveller  objected.  Whereupon  the 
little  man  laughed  with  great  glee,  accepting 
this  as  a high  compliment  to  the  forest-craft  of 
himself  and  his  followers.  During  the  whole 
of  that  time  the  Pygmies  had  the  caravan 
entirely  in  their  power  ; but  the  very  smallness 
of  the  company  and  the  evident  peacefulness  of 
its  intentions  had  disarmed  their  suspicions. 
Mr.  Lloyd’s  experience  in  the  forest,  so  different 
from  Stanley’s,  showed  that  the  dwarfs  are  by 
no  means  so  “malicious  ” as  that  great  explorer 
imagined.  And  his  testimony,  like  that  of  Dr. 
Livingstone  or  Mr.  Joseph  Thomson,  points  to 
the  conclusion  that  where  no  warlike  demonstra- 
tions are  made,  the  African  savage  of  whatsoever 


147 


Appearance  and  Habits 

tribe  is  in  ordinary  circumstances  a good-natured 
fellow,  who  is  ready  to  give  the  right  hand  of 
fellowship  to  those  who  show  themselves  peace- 
ful and  friendly. 

With  the  Pygmies  Mr.  Lloyd  struck  up  a 
friendship  on  the  spot.  The  chief  testified  to 
his  goodwill  by  presenting  him  with  an  ante- 
lope he  had  just  killed,  and  also  with  a pot  of 
wild  honey,  of  which  great  quantities  are  gath- 
ered by  these  people  from  the  hollows  of  the 
trees.  That  night  the  two  parties  encamped 
in  the  forest  side  by  side,  and  they  parted  next 
morning  on  the  best  of  terms,  after  Mr.  Lloyd 
had  made  several  ineffectual  efforts  to  obtain 
photographs  of  the  strangers.  He  found  that 
snapshots  were  impossible  in  the  forest  twilight, 
while  the  Pygmies  were  too  restless  to  submit 
to  time  exposures.  And  so,  after  spoiling  about 
a dozen  plates,  he  had  to  give  up  the  idea  in 
despair. 

After  this,  different  parties  of  Pygmies  were 
met  with  at  various  times  in  the  further  course 
of  the  march  through  the  forest,  some  of  whom 
even  brought  their  women  to  see  the  white 
traveller.  The  women  were  comely  little 

148 


Appearance  and  Habits 

creatures,  averaging  3 feet  10  inches  in  height, 
with  light  tan-coloured  skin.  Like  Stanley, 
Mr.  Lloyd  was  much  struck  by  the  beautiful 
eyes  of  the  Pygmy  women.  These  are 
singularly  large  and  lustrous,  but  so  quick 
and  restless  that  they  never  seem  to  fix  their 
gaze  upon  any  object  for  one  second  at  a 
time. 

The  Pygmies  are  essentially  a wandering 
people.  They  never  think  of  clearing  the 
ground  and  cultivating  the  soil,  and  are  con- 
tent to  wander  from  place,  gathering  the  honey 
which  the  bees  have  stored  and  the  fruit  and 
beans  and  nuts  which  grow  plentifully  on  the 
trees,  but  above  all  living  on  the  spoils  of  the 
chase.  They  are  fearless  and  expert  hunters, 
who  do  not  hesitate  with  their  little  bows  and 
arrows  to  attack  the  largest  elephants.  Some- 
times they  have  to  follow  one  of  these  forest 
monsters  for  days,  and  shoot  hundreds  of 
arrows  into  it  before  it  falls  down  and  dies 
from  exhaustion  and  loss  of  blood.  Then  they 
camp  around  it  and  feast  upon  its  flesh  day 
after  day.  When  nothing  but  the  hide  and 
skeleton  are  left,  they  seize  their  weapons 


149 


Pygmy  Worship 

once  more,  and  go  forth  in  search  of  another 
quarry. 

Particularly  interesting  to  this  traveller  were 
the  evidences  he  discovered  of  the  Pygmy  wor- 
ship. It  has  sometimes  been  alleged  that  these 
Congo  dwarfs  have  no  religion  ; but  Mr.  Lloyd 
had  abundant  evidence  that  this  was  not  the 
case.  Sometimes  at  the  foot  of  a huge  tree 
there  might  be  seen  a bundle  of  food  neatly 
tied  up  in  a piece  of  bark  cloth,  or  a pot  of 
honey,  or  a humble  offering  of  forest  beans. 
The  Pygmies  venerate  the  Spirit  of  their  forest 
home,  and  look  upon  a giant  tree  as  enshrining 
that  Spirit’s  presence.  And  besides  their  tree 
shrines  Mr.  Lloyd  came  upon  temples  of  their 
own  building — little  huts  roughly  fenced  in 
from  the  forest,  and  hardly  better  than  the  tiny 
shelters  of  boughs  and  leaves  in  which  they 
lie  down  at  night,  but  holy  places  in  their 
eyes,  because  there  they  deposit  the  gifts  they 
wish  to  offer  to  the  invisible  Spirit  of  the 
woods. 

Having  successfully  struck  the  river  Ituri, 
the  expedition  made  its  way  along  the  banks, 
and  at  length  issued  from  the  forest  at  a place 


The  Ituri  River 

called  Avakubi,  where  there  was  a Belgian 
station  with  an  officer  in  command.  Here  the 
white  traveller  was  kindly  received,  and  stayed 
for  two  days,  thoroughly  enjoying  the  comforts 
of  civilized  life  after  all  the  privations  of  camp 
arrangements  in  the  Pygmy  Forest.  And  now 
it  was  a comfort  to  think  that  though  he  had 
still  some  1500  miles  of  African  travel  to  face, 
no  more  tramping  would  be  necessary.  Fifteen 
days’  paddling  in  a canoe  down  the  Aruwimi 
would  bring  him  to  the  Congo.  Reaching  that 
great  river,  he  would  connect  with  a service  of 
steamers  running  between  Stanley  Falls  and 
Leopoldville.  At  the  latter  place  a passage 
would  be  secured  by  another  steamer  to  Boma, 
at  the  Congo  mouth,  and  from  that  place  the 
Belgian  mail  boat  would  carry  him  home- 
wards. 

This  was  a comparatively  tame  programme 
for  one  who  had  just  fought  his  way  for  weeks 
through  all  the  dangers  and  terrors  of  the  Great 
Forest ; and  yet  the  journey,  especially  in  its 
earlier  stages,  was  full  of  interest,  and  not 
without  adventure.  More  than  once  the  canoe 
came  to  grief  in  shooting  the  rapids,  for  African 


The  Bangwa 

boatmen  are  not  such  experts  at  this  kind  of 
work  as  the  North  American  Indians ; and 
once  at  least  Mr.  Lloyd  was  all  but  drowned. 
Moreover,  the  Aruwimi  for  a long  distance 
runs  through  a country  in  which  cannibalism  is 
practised  almost  as  a fine  art  by  a bold  and 
warlike  race  known  as  the  Bangwa.  More  than 
once  on  landing  at  a Bangwa  village  Mr.  Lloyd 
had  to  face  a trying  experience.  A crowd  of 
tall  savages,  each  with  a cruel-looking  knife 
shaped  like  a sickle,  walked  round  him,  look- 
ing him  up  and  down,  as  if  taking  stock  of  his 
condition  and  considering  whether  he  was 
worth  killing.  The  trial  was  all  the  more 
unpleasant  that  he  knew  perfectly  well  how 
those  same  execution  knives  were  used.  When 
about  to  hold  a cannibal  feast,  the  Bangwa  lead 
a captive  beneath  a tree,  and  bending  down  a 
large  bow  fasten  his  neck  to  it.  One  swish  of 
the  keen  sickle-knife  severs  the  neck  com- 
pletely, and  the  bough,  springing  back  to  its 
original  position,  tosses  the  poor  head  with  a 
kind  of  derision  high  into  the  air. 

Apart  from  disagreeable  sensations  on  his 
own  private  account,  Mr.  Lloyd  often  had  to 


152 


The  Bangwa 

witness  scenes  which  were  horrible  and  sicken- 
ing. It  was  a common  thing  to  see  a group  of 
men  sitting  round  a fire  and  eagerly  watching 
the  leg  of  a man  that  was  being  roasted,  and 
next  falling  upon  it  and  devouring  it  with 
unconcealed  gusto.  The  visitor  found,  how- 
ever, that  the  cannibalism  of  the  Bangwa  was 
not  simply  a depraved  appetite,  but  in  large 
part  the  result  of  superstition.  They  firmly 
believed  that  the  spirit  of  the  dead  warrior 
passes  into  the  body  of  the  man  who  eats  him, 
so  that  by  partaking  of  the  flesh  of  his  slain 
foe  a man  will  increase  his  own  strength  and 
courage.  It  is  in  keeping  with  this  that  a 
woman  is  seldom,  if  ever,  eaten  by  the  Bangwa. 

The  donkey  with  which  Mr.  Lloyd  started 
from  Toro  not  only  proved  to  be  of  no  use  as 
a steed,  but  was  a source  of  infinite  trouble 
through  her  habit  of  floundering  into  swamps 
and  sticking  fast  in  the  bush  on  every  possible 
occasion,  and  he  was  glad  to  sell  her  on 
the  first  opportunity.  His  little  dog  Sally, 
after  many  exciting  adventures  and  hairbreadth 
escapes,  came  to  an  untimely  end  in  the  jaws 
of  a crocodile.  But  his  bicycle,  which  had 


*53 


\ 


“Riding  on  a Snake” 

been  carried  safely  through  the  forest  in  sec- 
tions, he  was  now  able  to  put  together  again, 
and  one  day  in  a large  Bangwa  community  in- 
habited by  some  thousands  of  people  he  ap- 
peared suddenly  in  the  village  street  pedalling 
along  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  The  sensation 
he  produced  was  enormous.  The  cannibals 
rushed  about  in  consternation,  knocking  each 
other  down  in  their  eagerness  to  get  out  of  the 
way,  and  crying,  “The  white  man  is  riding 
on  a snake.”  By  and  by  he  dismounted,  and 
calling  to  the  chief,  tried  to  persuade  him  to 
come  and  examine  this  strange  flying  creature. 
But  his  assurances  that  it  was  perfectly  harm- 
less were  of  no  avail.  The  cannibal  declined 
to  come  any  nearer,  saying,  as  he  pointed  to 
the  long  trail  left  by  the  wheels  on  the  village 
street,  that  he  always  knew  a snake’s  track 
when  he  saw  it. 

The  intrepid  traveller  reached  Boma  safely 
at  last,  and  caught  the  mail  steamer  for  Europe. 
He  had  suffered  many  hardships,  but  he  had 
also  had  not  a few  experiences  that  were 
pleasant — especially  in  the  retrospect.  And 
not  the  least  pleasing  of  his  impressions  was 


*54 


Pygmyland 

the  conviction  which  had  grown  upon  him  day 
by  day,  whether  in  the  forest  of  the  Pygmies 
or  among  the  cannibals  of  the  Aruwimi  River, 
that  great  as  was  the  darkness  in  which  those 
people  lived,  they  had  many  fine  characteristics 
of  their  own,  and  offered  a fresh  and  splendid 
field  for  the  messengers  of  the  Christian  Gospel. 

The  rapidity  of  his  march,  combined  with 
his  complete  ignorance  of  the  languages  of 
the  Congo  region,  so  different  from  those  of 
Uganda,  made  it  impossible  for  Mr.  Lloyd 
to  engage  during  his  journey  in  any  kind  of 
Christian  work  among  the  natives.  But  it  was 
a missionary  work  which  carried  him  through 
the  Dark  Forest,  and  that  missionary  purpose 
had  not  been  fruitless. 

The  C.M.S.,  it  is  true,  has  not  hitherto  felt 
justified  in  taking  up  work  among  the  Pygmies. 
But  Mr.  Lloyd  may  be  said  to  have  claimed 
that  strange  people  for  Christ.  Stanley  had 
shown  that,  so  far  from  being  on  the  plane 
almost  of  the  brute  creation,  they  were  a people 
of  a quick  intelligence.  Mr.  Lloyd  proved 
that  they  were  also  possessed  of  religious  ideas 
which  offer  a foundation  for  a higher  faith  and 


l55 


Pygmy  land 

worship  than  their  own.  An  American  mission- 
ary traveller,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Geil,  has  followed 
in  Mr.  Lloyd’s  steps  by  traversing  the  forest, 
and  has  added  something  further  to  our  know- 
ledge of  its  very  interesting  inhabitants.  There 
is  every  reason  to  hope  that  Pygmyland,  like 
many  another  part  of  the  Dark  Continent,  will 
one  day  be  brought  into  the  Kingdom  of  Christ. 


Note. — The  book  which  contains  Mr.  Lloyd's  narrative  of  his  re- 
markable journey  is  entitled  In  Dwarf  Land  and  Cannibal  Country , 
and  is  published  by  Mr.  T.  Fisher  Unwin.  The  present  author  has 
to  thank  Mr.  Unwin  for  his  kind  permission  to  make  use  of  Mr.  Lloyd’s 
narrative. 


William  brendon  and  son,  ltd., 

PRINTERS,  PLYMOUTH 


Date  Due 

-s- 

IS 

